


Last Hope

by nanianela



Category: Supernatural
Genre: After The Angels Fall, Angst with a Happy Ending, Chuck is God, Comfort/Angst, Dean is Bad at Feelings, Family Fluff, Father Castiel, Gen, LOL I don't even know, M/M, Mentions of Suicide, Mute Castiel, Season/Series 09, Self-Harm, angel babies, egg, trigger warning for
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-22
Updated: 2015-03-19
Packaged: 2018-02-26 13:28:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 20
Words: 47,548
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2653664
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nanianela/pseuds/nanianela
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written immediately after the end of season 8. Dean found Cas, filthy, begging for change, clutching onto mysterious egg after the fall of the angels from heaven. It contains what Metatron couldn't touch; a last hope. Dean juggles his dying brother, a traumatized ex-angel, and now this? How can mere humans raise the last angels in existence? "No, Dean, we are not naming an archangel 'Bobby'."<br/>Now complete :)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

cover art is by anobviousaside on tumblr, but I did a little bit of manipulation. Her post is /46778628599, or click [here](http://anobviousaside.tumblr.com/post/46778628599) for the link! :)

Also, part of this has been translated into Chinese by spoongogogo! Follow this link to check it out! http://www.mtslash.com/forum.php?mod=viewthread&tid=95811   
How to log in: ID：authors  
Passwords：123456789

Thanks for reading!

* * *

 

His friend hadn't always exactly been reliable in the past. Not like it was his fault, though. Dean knew he _tried_ , that the angel did care. Even though it was kind of hard to remember that sometimes.

Like now, for instance.

His throat was close to being scrubbed raw for screaming his name. His full name, his true name.

" _Castiel!_ " Dean tried for what felt like the five hundredth time. "Please," He rasped, finally slumping against the shiny black car, Sam tucked into his arms.

It was wet. And cold. And people were screaming- no, take that back,  _ex-angels_  were screaming and falling in flames and for all he knew they were dying. He didn't know, and right now, he couldn't find it in him to care.

All he cared about was keeping the broad-shouldered, heavy and gigantic little brother in his arms from dying, just keeping him breathing and his heart pumping. That was all that mattered.

"Dean." Sam coughed, little wet spots of blood flicking onto his brown leather jacket. "De."

God, he hadn't heard that little nickname since Sam had been around five.

"It's okay, Sammy. It's okay. I'm here, I'm gonna take you to the hospital."

"De," Sam squeezed the syllable from his lungs. "Cas...can't hear..y..'nymore." He rasped, a slightly curled finger tracing the path of a flaming, streak of fire as it fell in a line toward the Earth.

Dean wrenched open the car door, wheezing as he lifted (or attempted to lift) Sam into the backseat. Sam coughed and tried to speak up again. "Falling...C-Cas.."

"Shhh. I gotcha, Sammy. Take it easy. Take it easy, okay?" He managed to get him into the back and slammed the door, and gunning it out of the empty parking lot. It was cold, rainy, his clothes were plastered to his skin, his chilled hands were shaking as he gripped the steering wheel so hard if it were alive he would be strangling it.

It was ironic that the person who's name he'd been screaming nonstop was completely out of his mind as he tore up the rainy roads.

* * *

Silence.

No "angel radio" as Dean had nicknamed it.

Before the stifling silence it had been screams and cries for help and tears and begs for mercy and forgiveness. Then, it all cut off, clean, just like the slice across his neck. And it hurt, like a knife had carved that ability straight out of him, and the invisible appendage was still bleeding.

The crisp, scrubbed-clean, fresh-from-the-rain air lilted and combed through the hair on his head, and chilled the water that was brimming on the edge of his lower eyelids, making his eyeballs feel like tiny balls of ice in his skull.

Everything was quiet, inside in head. Stifling and unnatural and lonely. His gracless body ached from the loss, newfangled pain squeezing through his veins, his body screaming just from the sensation of blood pumping through his body.

Flaming stars were falling. All of us are Lucifers now.

 _Cassttiieeelll_...

Vessels were not only for the human's sake. It was dangerous for angels to come to Earth vessel-less, and if there was prolonged exposure, impossible to survive.

Earth was poisonous. The atmosphere was chock-full of sins and evil and tainted molecules, unlike the pure, gentle, saline atmosphere of Heaven. Earth was filthy. And to try and survive unsheltered, in an atmosphere like Earth's, grace would die quickly. Within the hour, Cas estimated.

And not every angel in heaven was matched with a human vessel.

His newly aware muscles screamed with every step. Damp leaves made strange, muffled and moist attempts at crunches underneath his shoes. The cold, humid air was stinging his skin and biting his nose and knuckles.

She must have been one of the first to fall. Her grace had already dimmed enough from exposure to Earth for him to view it with his new human eyes, only leaving splotches of neon green behind his eyelids when he blinked.

"Sister," He spoke, the wind from his lungs ticking his windpipe, his breath felt sharp and wispy on the back of his throat and he was so aware of absolutely everything all at once. He felt hair on his face, he felt his tongue in his mouth, he felt the cloth on his body, the shoes squeezing his feet. And he felt a bleeding hole somewhere vaguely in his chest area, gaping wounds that ripped down his back, the loss of what made him an angel.

 _Cassttieell_...the glowing mass of dying, fading grace was calling to him without lips to speak with, a tendril of grace reaching out to him weakly.

"Sister Naarai," He breathed, feeling the tears spill out from the brim of his eyelids and he was hyperactively aware of the cold and wet that smoothed down his cheek. Naarai, the angel of children.

"חיים חדשים" She breathed in Hebrew, the only human language she knew since coming to Earth a long, long time ago, the angel of children was one of the few graced with preparing for Mother Mary's birth.

"New life?" Castiel asked, his vocal chords humming in his neck unpleasantly. "I don't understand-"

The light was fading, like a glowing coal, throbbing in and out of light. He held out his hands, and she slipped a tendril over his palms. A weight came into existence, and he held the object that she'd given him securely to his chest, the object surprising fitting perfectly to the curve of his human body.

"I will protect it with my life." He didn't like how everything was so new, his voice vibrating his throat and humming behind his ears.

The egg was basketball-sized, a pure, heavenly white shell that contained something that was possibly the most valuable thing in the universe as of now, the untouched grace of an angel child.

Naarai's grace, which was white and throbbing, on the dark brown soil like the splatter of a teardrop, faded and died.

It was only three days later that Dean finally found his angel-  _ex-angel_  - in his same holy tax accountant clothes, sitting outside of a Wal-mart with a cup in one hand, begging for any change, with the egg tucked under a coat lapel in the other arm. His face was scruffy and grimy.

Hell, Dean's hygiene probably wasn't that much better than his, after living for his brother and his brother only during his painstakingly slow and rocky recovery.

"Change? Change? Please?" Cas was muttering, shaking an empty bean can, a few quarters clinking along the tin sides.

"Cas?" Dean felt his breath catch in his throat as he sprinted and crouched to his knees. "Dude! I found you!" He smiled and a pent-up breath he didn't know he was holding. He surged forward and hugged him tightly, then pulled apart and wrinkled his nose.

"You smell awful- god damn, Cas, we gotta get you to a shower right now." Dean half-laughed.

He was met with a blank, blue-eyed expression.

"C'mon, you're coming home with me." Dean smiled for once in days and extended a hand to help him up.

Cas was completely silent, as if stunned, as Dean dragged the fallen angel and the mysterious egg home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! I will be uploading this gradually, but it is a fully completed story so you won't be left hanging :)


	2. Chapter 2

"Cas?" Dean opened the door to the spare bedroom next to Sam's room with a small squeak. He peered inside: just as he'd suspected, he'd needed to sleep. Cas hadn't even climbed under the covers as he was curled around this egg thing, his black hair spilling onto the mattress as his chest rose and fell shallowly.

Dean already saw some of the filth rubbing and smudging off onto the covers. Oh, well. He'd need to do laundry sooner or later, and Cas couldn't just angel-zap himself clean anymore. Dean swallowed as he remembered. God, things were going to be so different now. He felt a kind of achy feeling when he came to that realization.

He closed the door and stepped a few feet over to Sam's door. He felt his heart squeeze as he heard a very wet coughing coming from inside. Dean felt he had a lot on his shoulders to take care of these two men, his brother and his best friend. At least they were both here, in the same house. Didn't mean his job was going to be any easier.

"Sammy?" He called out, quickly opening the door and striding to his bedside.

His face was still pale white with an unhealthy yellow, wan look to it, and he had purple smears under his eyes and a flush of veiny violet on his sharp cheekbones and concave cheeks. Believe it or not, he looked a little bit better than "that day".

"Hey Dean," Sam choked out, forcing a smile as he coughed into a rag. Dean reached out and had to push all that damp hair off his face in order to feel his forehead. It felt like his fever had gone down a little. That was good.

"I swear to God I'll give you a buzzcut." Dean mumbled, as Sam's eyes flutttered closed at the touch of his cold hand.

"You wouldn't have to if you just put Nair in my shampoo again," Sam joked, but his voice was strained. Dean let out a huff of air, a sad excuse for a laugh, and dampened a different rag in a little bowl of water by his bedside, pushing aside those long brown hairs again and dabbing his forehead, clearing away the sweat that was beading on his cheeks and nose and chin.

"So, you found Cas." Sam spoke up quietly, his vocal chords sounding a little worse for wear.

Dean took the flask of cold water from his pocket and held it up to Sam's pale, cracked lips. "Drink," He commanded, tipping it back slightly as Sam swallowed slowly. Dean knew it hurt his throat to drink water but he didn't care, he'd been making him do it every hour or so. He needed to be hydrated if he was going to start healing.

He finally took the flask away and rummaged around for another thing in his pocket. "Yeah," He all but grunted. "I found 'im."

"Well, is he okay?" Sam rasped, concerned.

"I guess so. He's sleeping." Dean tried to dismiss it. Sam shouldn't be worrying about anything but himself right now.

Sam made a face as Dean brought out a little baggy of many different pills. "Hurts."

"C'mon, Sammy. We discussed this. You gotta take 'em."

He continued to frown a little. "'Kay." He said quietly, his mouth peeking open just a little. Dean gave him anything he could think of, really. Iron supplements (I mean, he lost quite a lot of blood injecting into Crowley, right?), One-a-day Men's, some painkillers, Vitamin D (who knew what causes scurvy?).

"Can Cas come in here? When he wakes up?" Sam asked meekly, his eyelids slipping closed as he gripped the top of the covers. Sam had been sleeping a lot himself these days, healing was taking a lot out of him.

"Sure." Dean said, straightening up again. "Sure, I'll send 'im in. I don't know if he'll want to answer your questions, though." He lowered his eyes, just staring at the prints on the quilt spread over Sam. "He hasn't said a word to me yet."

Dean sure as hell didn't want to see Crowley, locked away with those cursed handcuffs, and have him curse him out and beg to be released, screaming he'd changed. No thanks.

Instead, he put the newspaper on Sam's bedside table, he left the flask in case he got thirsty, and quietly peeked into Cas's room. He was still in a deep sleep, hugging that little egg tight. Dean quietly pulled up a chair, wincing as it scraped along the floor.

The room was stuffy and Cas smelled bad, like soil and body odor, but Dean didn't mind. He kind of got where Cas was coming from when he watched him, curled up like a cat: knowing he wasn't in any danger, that he was just  _here_ , safe and sound, peacefully-

Cas gasped and his eyes flew open, his body moving to sheild the egg, scuffling back on the bed and pressing himself against the wall.

Okay. So  _not_  peacefully sleeping.

"Don't worry. You're just back in the Men of Letters HQ, remember?" Dean shot out. He knew that look on his face- the ghost of a nightmare still ramming his heart against his ribs. He said nothing as he steadied his breathing, just looking at Dean with his blue eyes half-lidded.

"Uh..that yours?" Dean asked awkwardly, clearing his throat. "You do a little fooling around without a condom?"

Cas still said nothing as he lowered his eyes to the egg, resting his hand gently and tenderly on its top, still keeping it pressed to his body.

"C'mon, man, why don't you talk to me?" Dean asked.  _Maybe he can't_. The thought crossed his mind. I mean, there was no way all that could go down without at least some mental scarring. Dean was even feeling a little shaken up himself.

Cas's stomach suddenly let out a loud, gurgling rumble, and his eyes flicked down to his belly, where he pressed the hand that had previously been resting on the egg.

"C'mere, we'll go to the kitchen. I'll fix you up something to eat." The dark-haired man hesitantly stumbled off the side of the bed and waited, his eyes boring into Dean. Dean felt extremely uncomfortable as he began to make his way to the kitchen, the mute man silently shadowing him.

Dean peeked into the cabinets, calling out for Cas."Uh, we got plenty of cereal, some canned stuff like beans or soup or something, 'course, I could cook you the good stuff if you want. You want that?"

He turned to look at Cas, who was sitting down at the table, his eyes lowered to that egg again, he was smoothing it down tenderly with the slight shush of his palms against the shell. "Seriously, Cas, is that your kid or something?"

As expected, he got no response.

"Well, look. I think I got some cheese and bread and butter, and I make a mean grilled cheese. Is that what you want?"

Finally, Cas nodded just a little. Dean couldn't help but feel bad- he was acting like a little kid after something horrible. Dean remembered he didn't talk for close to two weeks after his mom was killed.

"Okay. I'll make one for me, too, Kevin, and hell, I guess I better make one for Crowley." He locked his jaw and his hands curled into fists. He hated that he needed to take care of the man that was the reason Sam was so sick.

"...sam." He heard Castiel say in an extremely tiny voice. Dean's eyes widened- he'd finally spoken up. He was stunned for a second before he replied.

"Uh, I haven't forgotten about Sam. He just can't get solid foods down right now." He looked Cas up and down; he was filthy. Maybe he could jump in the shower as he cooked.

"Do you want to..uh, clean up before lunch?"

Cas's eyes were lowered to the egg again. Maybe he didn't know how.

"Okay. Maybe we should clean up before. Trust me, you don't want to get sick. One of the worst things about being human."

Cas again stood up, waiting for Dean to show him where to go. Dean closed the fridge and the pantry, and made his way to the bathroom, Cas following him silently.

"Okay, if you want to hop in, I can hold little Eggy out here for you until you're done." Dean offered. Cas shook his head forcefully.

"Okayy. So, you don't want to let go of him. That's okay. I guess." He cleared his throat. "I can wait outside for you if you want." Shit. Is that creepy? Dean flushed pink and went out.

He didn't even hear the sound of the tap for at least a minute. Finally, he rapped on the door. "Cas? You okay in there?"

The was a beat of silence. "Dean." His voice was small and muffled behind the door.

How in the hell Dean had even agreed to this he never knew. But next thing he knew, he was scrubbing shampoo deep into Cas's grungy dark hair as the ex-angel sobbed in the bathtub.

The egg and the soapy water were obscuring anything from veiw, thank goodness. Cas was holding the egg in his lap, curled protectively over it. His shiny, wet chest was jumping with sobs as he breathed in choppy breaths and tears mixed with the bathwater as they ran down his face.

Dean worked his fingers deep into his hair as he felt a little grossed out by the brownish suds that emerged. "It's okay, Cas. It's okay."

He hiccuped wetly and couldn't bring himself to look Dean in the eye as he tipped his head down obidiently, letting Dean wash his hair for him like he was two years old.

Dean jumped as he realized the bathwater was tinged with red, not just the grimy brown. "Cas?" He didn't expect a response.

"W-wings." The ex-angel stuttered out. Dean bit down on his teeth. What was he talking about?

"Let me see. Cas, let me see." Dean's voice lowered. "Turn around."

He obeyed, splashing a little as he turned around. Dammit, two long lines along his back were blackened and crusty with scabs, a little red trickling out, the skin around it very pink and puffy, puckering along the edges, the clear signs of infection.

"Dammit." Dean growled as he gently touched one of the thick scabs, earning a sharp intake of breath from Castiel. He dipped a cup into the bathwater and brought it up to the man's soapy hair. "Close your eyes. Tight, Cas."

He poured the water over his head, the soap running down his bare shoulders, some suds snagging on the crusty scabs, and Cas sputtered as the water got into his mouth.

"Sorry. You'll learn how to bathe or shower on your own soon, okay?"

The ex-angel turned back around to face him with a series of small splashes. He was frowning, holding on to the egg tightly, which was shining with water.

"Don't worry about it, Cas. I used to bathe Sammy all the time when we were little, he was way less cooperative." Dean chuckled a little when he remembered how much Sammy used to splash around and whine and complain.

"is it bad?" Cas whispered, running his hand along the egg's shell. "wings."

"They're...the gashes are infected." Dean spoke up. "They're hurting you, aren't they?"

He nodded, and Dean dipped the cup in the warm water and poured it over his skin. "Okay. Let's get you out and we have to clean those cuts, Cas."

He let Dean wrap a towel around him, and Dean was reminded of what he was on bath duty for Sam when he was little. His black hair dripped onto his face and the towel and he shivered.

He only hissed a little as Dean dabbed onto the scabs with a washcloth. They were filthy, and Cas barely made even made a noise when Dean softened the scabs with water and pulled the blackened scabs off, falling in pieces like petals to the tiles on the bathroom floor.

And once he'd dressed the wounds, putting an copious amount of neosporin and using up almost all of his bandages, Cas's body began to wrack with sobs again, as he covered his face with his hand. "My f-fault.." He choked, as Dean frowned and rubbed his dark hair dry slowly with a towel, the messy tufts and wet spikes sticking up everywhere, Dean finally draped it over his shoulders.

Great. He had a sick brother, a half-cured demon in the basement, a prophet of the Lord, and a mostly-mute baby in a trenchcoat. Not to mention Eggy.

What could possibly go wrong with this situation?


	3. Chapter 3

"Here. Just wear this until we can take you to find some clothes your size." Dean handed Cas a folded up black Led Zepplin tee he owned, and a pair of red boxers. "Pajamas. Just don't leave the house in these, okay?"

Cas nodded, he was still wrapped up in his towel. "I believe..it's indecent for you to see my vessel without garments." His voice was low and rumbly as he finally said something more than a few words.

Dean felt like he was teaching a two-year-old the social laws that governed the world. "Yeah." He answered simply. He didn't want to confuse him by telling him all about different outfits for different occasions yet, just knowing that he had to cover up was enough for now.

"What are pajamas?" He asked in a tiny voice, he still had the towel wrapped tightly around his shoulders and body.

"Like, sleepwear. Nice, comfy stuff to sleep in. Then you change out of it when your day starts." He smiled a little. "Of course, you don't absolutely need pajamas. I like to go commando. Well, not in those nasty motel beds. At home, though."

Cas tilted his head to the side. "Commando...?"

Dean looked away and chuckled. "You know what, never mind. Sammy's probably better off teaching you this stuff so you don't wind up a pig like me."

Cas finally dropped the towel, rested the egg on the bed and tried to pull on the boxers, swaying a little as he tried to get in both leg holes at once. Dean put a hand up to sheild his eyes. "One foot and leg at a time, Cas."

"You are not porcine in anyway I can see, Dean." Cas spoke up quietly, finally slipping the plaid material over his hips, reaching for the folded shirt.

"Thanks." Dean chuckled. "And it's nice to..hear your voice, Cas. Glad you're talkin'."

"I realized it's better to have a conversation...keeps the thoughts at bay. At least temporarily." He slipped the shirt over his head. The cloth was pungent with Dean's scent, and it was overwhelming his seemingly new sense of smell.

He tugged at the material, but only managed to get his arms up to elbows out of the holes. "...Dean?"

"I know. Shirts are tricky." Dean tugged a little roughly downward and his dark head of hair popped out of the neckhole, quickly followed by his head. Cas's eyes were downcast, his cheeks tinging with pink. He was embarrased, and he quickly reached and tucked the egg securely into his hands once more, hugging it as if for comfort.

"You'll get the hang of it." Dean tried to reassure him. "You'll get the hang of a lot of this- being human stuff."

"I would like to try on my own." Cas shot back moodily. "I know how to do many complex things on my own. I don't want to be treated like a child."

Dean narrowed his eyes. "Cas. Look at me." Castiel hesitantly met his jade green eyes.

"I know you're not a child. You're my friend who's in the middle of a rough patch, and I'm just trying to help you in any way I can. Adult to adult, okay?"

The ex-angel frowned and pressed his lips together before nodding.

"Good." Dean patted him reassuringly on the back just once. "Now, let's say we make our feeding rounds for lunch, what do you say?"

They delievered a plate with grilled cheese to Kevin first, who was in the room with the gigantic map of the globe that had been overwhelmed with red dots and blaring sirens the night the angels fell. He was ferociously scribbling something down, his button-black eyes flicking from a reciept-like paper with thousands of time stamps and codes back to his notepad.

"Here you go, Kev." Dean said, setting the plate down with a clink. "Real brain food this time. Not that mystery meat you'd been eating before."

"Thanks." Kevin shot out, taking the half of the sandwich with one hand as he still scribbled with the other, his eyes not leaving the papers. He took a large bite, his eyes still scanning the reciept paper, he seemed like he was making sense of the jumbled numbers and codes.

"Mmm. Vat's Goov." He said with a full mouth, and Dean clapped him on the back. "Keep up the good work, Tranny."

"Har, har." Kevin rolled his eyes, the hint of a smile twitching on his lips. "Haven't heard that one before." He suddenly noticed Castiel.

"Oh! Nice to see you're...uh, back! Look, I have a few names I wanted to ask-"

Dean led Cas away gently. "Hey, later. He's still a little..."

"Got it." Kevin said back, almost a little too quickly. "Well, I can talk about what I found at dinner, if you want." He covered up quickly.

"Yeah. That'd be great. I'll come by and pick up the plate later." Dean called back as they went back into the main room from there.

"Last stop Crowley." Dean muttered under his breath. "Should I..? I mean, one missed meal isn't gonna kill 'im..." He voiced aloud.

Cas shadowed Dean as he snaked his way through the room, heading down to the demon dungeon where he kept him.

"You seem to need to care for many people here, Dean." Cas commented quietly.

Dean shrugged. "Eh. It's not too bad. Full-time job, but it's not too bad."

Cas decided Dean had enough on his plate taking care of three other men already. He wouldn't burden him with his problems.

"Fuckin' finally." Crowley said irritably when he saw Dean had finally come into the dungeon. "I'm starved."

"Yeah, yeah." Dean rolled his eyes, roughly setting the plate down just far enough away so that the ex-(sort of ex?) demon would have to inconvience himself by reaching for it.

"Y'know,, if you let me go, I could cook all kinds of food. Way better than this American crap. I'm talking rich, Scottish dishes. I've heard I'm a mean cook. You didn't think Gordon Ramsay learned all that on his own, did ya? It ain't called Hell's Kitchen for nothing!" He raised an eyebrow mischeviously. "Eh? How about it?"

"How about hell no." Dean all but growled. "Or are you forgetting you're the one who almost killed Sam?"

"Dean, Dean!" Crowley rolled his eyes and tugged at his handcuffs. "He chose to do that to himself, remember? I was the one you two snagged, it's not  _my_ fault!"

"Sure." Dean turned away. "C'mon, Cas."

Castiel felt like each minute he spent with Dean was another minute he was a burden to his friend. He finally slipped away when Dean went to care for Sam again, spoon-feeding him some soup broth laced with vitamins and helping to drag him to the bathroom.

Cas thought about running away, but it wouldn't be fair to Dean to cause him even more worry. He chose to hide away somewhere out of sight instead.

It was a little hard to carry the egg and climb up to the roof of the bunker, but somehow he managed. And he went for close to four hours without another person's voice, and just those vile thoughts to keep him company.

"Cas!" He heard Dean's voice after a long solitude, breaking the silence, laced with relief. "There you are!"

He climbed up onto the roof with a little grunt. "Why are you up here, bud?"

Cas frowed and looked away. It was dark now, and a darkness had come over the rooftops, it was peaceful being hidden and tucked away in the shadows. Cas didn't quite know how to explain how he was feeling. "...Burden." He decided to say quietly, hugging the egg to his chest.

"Look, I know you don't really want to talk all that much right now." Dean said, coming up and sitting next to Castiel as he was sitting alone on the roof, cradling the egg as he looked down at the lights of the town faraway, the yellow dots from the street lamps were shining, and to the right it was swallowed by black, the dark woods.

"I just wanted to let you know that...you're wanted here. That you're  _not_  a burden. And I mean, me n' Sam can start showing you how to do things around here. "

Cas simply hung his head, resting his chin on top of the egg. "I'm useless." He breathed, hugging the white egg close to his chest.

"No, you're not." Dean growled, putting his hand on Cas's shoulder. "Look at me."

It took a second of lag, but finally he gave Dean a sad, sidelong glance, frowning slightly. Dean narrowed his eyes back. "Cas, don't think that just because you're not an angel anymore. You're still Cas. Did you think I would just..."

He swallowed back that tight feeling in the back of his throat. His hand slid from his shoulder to gently cup the nape of his neck, and Cas felt a soft warmth in his stomach at the brush of his slightly calloused fingers, resting there so warm on the back of his neck in such an intimate gesture. Cas swallowed and met Dean's eyes, a flutter briefly in his stomach at the way he was looking at him, concerned. Like he cared, really cared.

"I would never just..drop you, Cas. Frankly, I don't care if you're an angel or not." His eyebrows quirked upward and he prompted with a curt nod. "Understand?" His thumb briefly swiped at the back of his neck before he drew away again.

Cas felt his cheeks begin to burn, he could still feel the ghost of Dean's touch on his neck. "I...yes, I understand." He turned away and looked at those bright yellow streetlamps again. He was suddenly so nervous, unconciously smoothing down the shell of the egg again for comfort.

"Can I ask you a question about Eggy, then?" Dean changed the subject. Cas sighed but couldn't help but have a little smile creep onto his face.

" _Eggy_...?" He asked, finally smiling a little.

"What? You don't like it?" Dean joked back. "What else am I supposed to name it?"

"This egg is not an 'it'." Cas said, smiling a little as he looked down at the round, white object. "It's a..them."

"Them?" Dean asked. "How do you know how many little critters are in there?"

"I don't know exactly." Cas replied, smoothing down the shell again. "But they're never only one. For example, Ana and I shared a shell." He sighed and cradled it closer. "I supppose I'm their father now."

"How..I mean, what happened?" Dean said, in a more sensative voice, tipping his head back and looking at that dim white pinpricks in the sky. "How'd you get the li'l guy in the first place?"

"The night the angels fell...I was able to find one of my sisters in her time of dying. She told me it was new life, I promised to protect it." He said quietly. "I _have_ to protect them. I don't know if there are any more angels out there, and if I fail...maybe there never will be."

"See?" Dean spoke up. "You're not useless. You've got Eggy there to take care of." He snaked his arm around his shoulder and shook him a little, playfully. "See? You've got a damn important job to do."

Cas closed his eyes as a light breeeze played across his cheeks an combed through his hair. "I guess." He shrugged. Dean didn't move his arm, and Cas wasn't quite sure what to do.

"Oh, c'mere." Dean whispered, and indicated with a soft pull for Cas to move closer. Cas sighed and rested his temple on Dean's shoulder, letting himself be comforted. They were both quiet for a minute, the wind picking up a little. Cas shivered slightly; he was only wearing a cotton tee shirt and some boxers, after all. Dean's thumb traced a soft arc on Cas's shoulder where his hand was lightly gripping, and the tiny flutter returned. Dean was so warm. 

"When's little Eggy gonna crack open?" Dean asked, and Cas smoothed down the shell and seemed to contemplate.

"I'm...I don't know, Dean." He brought his knees up, the egg pressing to his legs and his chest, and his hugged around his knees. "Will you..will you and Sam and Kevin maybe.."

"Take care of them?" Dean finished, finally taking his arm away, much to Cas's silent dismay. "Duh, Cas. Of course. Y'know, maybe this time we can make sure they don't turn out to be such dicks." He flashed him a reassuring smile. Dean had such a kind heart under that rough exterior, Cas thought.

The dark-haired man smiled. "Thank you, Dean." He said quietly, shakily.

Dean cracked a smile. "Cas, this is- I mean, this is your home now." He cleared his throat, he didn't want to sound cheesy. "I mean, Kevin's bunking down here with us too, and Crowley, but I guess he's the only one who's more of a prisoner than a guest. You, uh, get what I'm saying?"

"I'm a..guest?" Cas asked hesitantly.

"You're a resident. Welcome to the Casa de Winchester." He laughed a little. "Nice water pressure, you got me to slave over your meals and whatever. But do your own laundry, okay? I'm not the maid."

Cas smiled. "I understand."

Dean knocked him lightly on the shoulder with his fist. "Good. Well, you can uh, just enjoy the view, I'll be in the bunker cooking dinner. You can come down when you're-" He was about to say ready, but he changed his mind halfway through. "When you're done."

"Thanks." Cas said quietly, glancing down at the glittering yellow strands of streetlamps, strung like pearl necklaces. He unconciously smoothed the soft eggshell again. He let his mind wander, just wanting to think things over so he would get it out of his system and never have to think about it again.

It was so peaceful up here. It was hard to think about all those broken brothers and sisters of his that were here on Earth, maybe in some of the tiny houses he saw with the lights on. Maybe some of them were very hurt. Maybe some of them didn't even speak English. Maybe some were still wandering, lost, afraid, hopeless.

It hit Cas how grateful he should be that he was found so quickly, invited into a home with people he trusted with his life. All of the other Fallen were either alone or with complete strangers.

He looked down at the egg in his lap. He wondered how many little fledglings were within the white wall, what they would look like, what they would act like. And then he hated himself for being the one and only reason that these were possibly the only angels left out there.

He steadied the egg with one hand as he pulled something out of his pocket with the other hand. He kept the round object resting in his lap as he shook three pain pills into his palm, pretty little white dots like pearls, and he swallowed them with some whiskey from the flask he'd also slipped into his pocket.

 _My fault. My fault_.

He let himself imagine taking that egg with two hands, pulling it over his head, and flinging it down off the rooftop and watching in smash in a puff of light below. He didn't deserve to care for infant angels, not after everything he'd done. Of course, maybe he was imagining it the wrong way. Maybe he should be the one to die, not the infants inside the shell.

The painkilers slowly began to numb the stinging from his shoulderblades, and had him feeling just a little bit calmer. His stomach growled, with a pinched, rumbly, unpleasant kind of hollow feeling. He tucked the bottle of pills and flask back into his pocket and climbed slowly, carefully down the roof for dinner.


	4. Chapter 4

"What does he mean it's a _them_?" Sam spoke up, a little flustered. "And you didn't think to tell me about this..angel egg thing before?"

Dean rolled his eyes. "I'm sorry. I wanted you to focus on healing, not worry about everything for once."

Sam crossed his arms as he lay on the bed. "I'm not going anywhere, Dean." He huffed.

"Good." Dean replied curtly. "Then I'll be back after dinner."

"I meant I'm not gonna die on you so you might as well start telling me things, Dean!" Sam complained. "I'm not... _ugh_ , Dean, I'm not as breakable as you're making it seem!"

"Fine, Sam." Dean plopped down on the edge of his bed. "When I found 'im he had this..egg, whatever, and he hasn't left it for a second, even when I gave him a ba-" He cut himself off, quickly, mid-word.

Sam snorted, his eyebrows raised. "Dean, you gave Cas a _bath_?" He broke into a smile. "You _did_ , didn't you?! Oh my..g-aha _haahaha_!"

Dean's ears felt hot and his face flushed pink. "He didn't know how, okay! He was filthy! And I didn't see anything, FYI!"

Sam's chortling turned into full on belly-laughs. " _You_ -YOU?! Gave- _Cas_ -baha _ha_ haaHAH _HA_ AA!"

"Okay, that's enough pain meds for you." Dean growled, ducking his head as to avoid Sam's eyes. But something was missing.

"Sam, quit it for a sec. Where are your pain killers?"

Sam wiped a teary eye. "Hoooo, man. I dunno, Dean, I was sleeping for the past three hours."

Dean clenched his hand into a fist. "Okay. I'll see you after dinner, Sam."

Dean was able to meet up with Cas on his way to the dining room, and he roughly grabbed his bicep in passing. He was met with somewhat of a startled blue-eyed look, then Cas pressed his lips together and avoided his eyes.

"Hand them over." Dean growled. "You know exactly what I'm talking about."

Cas said nothing as he stared him down, just the bottom of his eye twitched slightly.

"The _meds_ , Cas. Cough 'em up."

"I wasn't...my wing-cuts hurt." Cas replied meekly. "It's not what you think."

Dean punched his hand into his pocket and took out the bottle of pills. He raised his eyebrows and tipped the bottle just slightly to the side, as if he were saying 'oh, really?'. "And it's going to stay that way." He growled again. "You come to me if they start hurting. And I'll administer them."

Cas sighed and pulled the egg closer. "I know what I'm doing, Dean." He shot back.

"My house, my rules." Dean's face was inches within Cas's. "So you come to me if you want pills."

 _Then if it's not his house, it's not his rules._ Cas thought bitterly. _I have money, and I can buy my own._

"Fine." Cas replied bitterly.

"Good." Dean mumbled back, letting go of his arm finally with a tiny shove. "I made spaghetti."

* * *

Dean and Cas didn't say anything to each other at dinner. Neither did Kevin as he noticed that the two men were fueding, even though he'd been planning for a long conversation. Dean had his arms crossed, while Cas avoided everyone's gaze and was looking at his plate of food only, the noodles slipping off his fork time after time and flecking red spaghetti sauce everywhere.

"Oh for God's sake!" Crowley finally spoke up after a crushingly awkward silence. "What is this, Sesame Street? Teach that damn kid how to eat already or I'm going to lose it!" He demonstrated by holding the fork awkwardly with his cuffed hands. "Look! I can barely even move my hands and I can do it!"

"Leave him alone." Dean shot back acidly, kicking the man's leg under the table. "He's learning."

The noodles once again unwound off the ex-angel's fork and plopped wetly onto the plate below. Cas only stared at it dejectedly. A vein was practically pulsing by Crowley's temple with annoyance.

"You better be careful, Cas. You have no idea what that thing you're holding means." Crowley muttered, working his cuffed hands somehow to take another bite.

Dean's eyes narrowed. "Is that a threat? You're  _this_  close to being in that dungeon for a week straight."

"No, I'm serious!" Crowley insisted, his eyes lighting up. "I can smell that thing from here, and I'm barely even a demon anymore. It must be putting out some kind of, I dunno, radius."

"Aren't demons going on the down low for now? I mean, the gates are partially shut, anyway." Dean shot back.

Crowley rolled his eyes. "For  _now_ , Squirrel. But if that thing doesn't hatch soon.." He lifted his eyebrows and shrugged casually. "A few of my little friends from below might skillet themselves an omlete." He chewed on a bite of spaghetti nonchalantly.

He was met with a look of disbelief and annoyance from Dean. "You're not-"

"Oh, I'm dead serious." Crowley said back casually. "Us demons haven't consumed an angel egg in eons. Heaven always kept them so far out of reach, so inconvient. Angels are really so powerful, and to consume them while they are nothing but pure energy- makes a demon almost unstoppable."

"How the hell do you know all this?" Dean growled, his jaw clenching.

"The last demon to consume an angel egg?  _Me_." He grinned, as if he were proud. "Before that it was Abbadon."

Then, before Dean could stop him, the ex-angel had thrown himself at Crowley and was throwing a flurry of hard, swinging punches, a sick whumping and skin-on-skin sound.

"Cas!" Dean screamed out, grabbing the shirt by the nape of the neck and forcing him backwards. Cas's jaw was locked as his pain-filled eyes bored into his now-bloody face.

He unconsciously had his hand planted on Cas's chest as he restrained him. 

The ex-demon spat a little bit of blood from his mouth.

"Why are you _defending_ him?" Cas yelled hoarsely. "He killed infants from my family! He's killed others! _Your friends_!"

"I know he has. He was a demon then." Dean said almost under his breath.

"Are you saying he has an  _excuse_?!" Cas spat back. "It's dangerous to have my fledglings around him!"

"All I'm saying is that he's human now, Cas. He was trying to warn you."

Cas huffed out an angry breath and tried to push past, but Dean's hand forced him back. Dean knew he was just being protective against his egg, and future children, but he couldn't have this kind of fighting under his roof. And he hated that he was doing this, but he knew Crowley had changed, and it was time to start treating him like what he was now-human.

"Cas. Chill out, okay?" Dean tried to calm him down. "He's cuffed, and I won't let him anywhere near Eggy. I promise."

Cas bit down on his teeth. "I do not wish to look at him right now." He turned away slightly to protect the egg.

"Okay. You can come with me to go on a little grocery run for the house, get some air. Kevin," Dean pointed at the kid, who straightened up, his dark eyes bright. "You're the man of the house while I'm gone, okay?"

"Uh, yeah. Sure." Kevin answered, taking a sidelong glance at Crowley's bloody face. "Should I-"

"Just throw him back in the dungeon. I mean basement." Dean said, leading the distraught Cas away.

"I am not done with my food." Crowley frowned. "And you purposely burned my lunch earlier."

Dean rolled his eyes. "Fine. Let him finish eating, then throw him back." He led Cas to his room. "I'll lend you some clothes, Cas."

Crowley grinned at the nervous-looking Kevin, a little blood trickling from his split lip.

"Boo."

Kevin jumped up to scamper after Dean. " _Dean! Can you put him back before you leave? Please?_!"


	5. Chapter 5

It was completely quiet as they sped down the road, and Dean gave Cas a sidelong glance.

"I'm sorry I punched Crowley." Cas mumbled, even though he didn't sound very sorry at all.

"Don't be sorry, Cas. I get that you were freaked out about him hurting the egg." Dean tightened his fingers on the steering wheel. God, why in the hell was he even defending Crowley? Why couldn't he just throw him back into the world?

Dean wondered if he knew what he was doing. He decided he didn't.

What the hell was he supposed to do with an ex-demon prisoner? Or an ex-angel who was falling apart at the seams?

Cas frowned slightly. "I want him gone. By time they hatch."

Dean pressed his lips together. "Okay, Cas." He agreed quietly. "I'll...I'm gonna try."

They finally pulled in to the CVS. "Just, wait here, okay? Just try and calm down. You seemed pretty shaken up back there."

Cas nodded, holding the egg close. "I've been...it sounds dumb, but..every day it's more, it's been building, just this sense of overwhelming paternity.."

Dean smiled a little. "Of course you have. I haven't seen you leave that thing for two seconds." Cas looked down happily at the white object. "I suppose I haven't."

Dean patted the car as he stepped out and closed the door. "Maybe we've just been getting cabin fever."

"Maybe." He muttered back, and he felt the wad of cash press from the pocket of his borrowed jeans. "I will wait here."

Right when Dean's back was turned as he disappeared into the store, Cas pulled open the door and made a B-line for the liquor store right next to it.

...

Dean was only half paying attention as he pulled food from the shelves, a can of tea for Sam, some of those sugary candies Kevin liked to munch on while he worked. Some Bisquick for breakfast pancakes for the family-(wait, did he just think  _family_?) He picked up some frozen pizzas, yogurts and other non-chewable foods for Sammy...then, he stopped at looked at the product that had seemed to just jump up right at him.

"Huh." He said, shifting his weight to his other foot. "It's apparently on sale."

He squinted his eyes and looked at the product's picture on the huge, bulky box. A chubby little fat-roll armed baby was laughing and strapped into the little baby carrier on the front of a man, the 'hard working dad' on the box looking like the type to have just cleaned out the car engine and then proceed to make dinner. Look at that white-ass teeth smile. What a douchebag.

Dean tried to imagine if the egg would fit inside that little baby pouch. It sure would make things easier on Cas, going hands-free. And not that Dean would admit it, but he was terrified of the angel accidently dropping it, even though he knew it had to be stronger than the average egg, he still worried.

He shifted his eyes to make sure no one was looking, and tore open the box, tugging out the little carrier and fitting it to his chest, fiddling with the straps. He tried to picture Eggy, how big it was. He made a little invisble ball with his hands, trying to gage the size. Would it work?

He heard a very loud, very rude "Ehem."

He whipped to the source of the noise, his eyes widened. He saw an employee, leaning on the stick of a mop, she was smacking her gum and looking at him in annoyance from her heavily made-up eyes. "Sir, ya open it, ya buy it. Sorry, no exceptions."

Dean grumbled in embarrasment and stuffed the carrier back in the box and tipped it into the cart. At least he had an excuse to buy it now, not like he was, you know, like the new angels's parent or anything. Pfffft. No way.

Meanwhile, Cas was grabbing as much booze and beers as he could with the forty dollar budget, on top of the case of pain killers that rattled satisfyingly in his hands. Dean didn't understand that he needed them. Hell, just his blood pumping through his body had hurt at first. He needed these.

Cas suddenly was feeling nervous as the man rung up his items. Where could he hide his stash? And would Dean see them in the car? This was a bad idea.

"Uh- look, never mind with the alcohols. Just the pain killers, please. And..." He smiled a little as he saw the classic yellow-and-black disposable camera. He figured he should start to take some pictures now, so the new angels could see what life was like before they were born. The man shot him a death glare but took out all the items, finally practically shoving the plastic bag into his hands.

Cas hurried back to the car, keeping the camera in the bag but he stuffed the pain pills deep into his pocket. He waited for a few more minutes before Dean came back to the car, and he indicated for him to get out as he waggled his eyebrows.

Cas stepped out of the car, confused. He tilted his head to the side a little. "What is it?"

"I got a little something. It's for Eggy." He smiled and took out the box. "Ta da! Want to try it on?"

Cas frowned a little. "You don't have to do things like that for me, Dean."

Dean scoffed. "Oh, Bah humbug, you goddamn wet blanket. Just put it on."

"I don't understand that reference." He mumbled, he felt like his sleepiness had something to do with being agitated. Was there a word for that? "Dean, I'm tired."

"Stop being so cranky." Dean slipped the baby harness over his shoulders, tightening the straps with faint zipping noises. "Just try it out, Cas. Stick 'im on in there."

Cas yawned but complied, the egg snuggly fitting into the black, padded baby seat. Cas moved around a little, rotated- he observed the small pouch, he especially liked that the edges were padded. It held the egg in place, making sure it was cushioned and didn't bump around.

He only looked up from the harness when he heard a strangled kind of held-back laugh. He looked up to see Dean hiding a smile behind his hands, letting out a kind of muffled snort as he looked at Cas.

The ex-angel crossed his arms over the available space on his chest and frowned. "Did you get this for me as a joke? I am not seeing the humor, Dean." He said moodily.

Dean finally let go of his mouth and damn near bellowed. "No, Cas, it's just, you look like a kangaroo or something. Oh, I know! Like that friggin' pink pokémon thing with the egg, the nurse one, bahahaha!" He doubled over with laughter.

"I'm sorry, Cas. It's just...I've never dealt with an egg like this before." He straightened up and wiped his eyes. "Sorry I laughed at you."

Cas felt his eyes getting heavier. "Maybe I will see the humor of this situation when I see a mirror." He yawned loudly. "I'm tired, Dean."

Dean jingled the keys and rolled the cart over to start unpacking things into the backseat. "Kay, we'll be home soon. Just don't go.." He looked, but the guy was already fast asleep in the passenger's seat, his head lolling back on the headrest with his mouth slightly open, his hand limply resting on the egg in its little kangaroo pouch. "Ah, goddammit."

So once Dean carried in all the groceries, he carried Cas inside too.


	6. Chapter 6

"Hey!" Dean blinked a few times from the bright flash. "What are you doing?"

Cas looked down at the yellow-and-black camera and began rolling and winding it up again noisly. "Documenting." Cas replied, as if it were obvious.

"Documenting what? Me making pancakes?" Dean laughed a little. "Maybe it wasn't the best idea to have you go hands free."

Cas frowned a little, placing his hand on top of the egg almost defensively. "I want them to know what life was like here."

Dean looked down and flipped one of the pancakes. "So, you're making, like, a scrapbook or something?" He tried to hide the smile from creeping up onto his lips. "So I guess you've gotten used to the fact you're gonna be a dad?"

The former angel looked away, frowning slightly. "I try not to think about it too much."

Dean didn't quite know what to say to him. "I mean, you want to talk about it?" He asked gruffly.

Cas looked away, fiddling with his camera nervously. "I do want to talk." He said huskily, his voice rumbling. "I just - I don't know what to say."

"You're nervous?" Dean asked, feeling a little awkward as he poured on a little more pancake batter. He never was very good about talking about stuff like this.

"I was not thinking that this was going to happen to me." Cas answered. "I was never of a high enough rank to receive fledglings. I don't know if...if that's for a reason.

Dean couldn't bring himself to look up from the pancake, which was starting to bubble along the pale edges. "I'm sure you'll do great, Cas. Just don't worry so much about it."

Cas's stomach rumbled loudly. "I will be back for breakfast.." Cas said dejectedly, placing his hand on the little baby carrier as he left the room. Dean puffed out a sigh and flipped the pancake. Cas was a handful alone without throwing the egg into the mix, he was moping around and barely talking.

"Hey, show me the scrapbook when you're done, 'kay?" He called out, but got no reply. Dean sighed and rolled his eyes, muttering 'Cas, bud, you're killing me.'

Now was his least favorite part, when he had to go give the damn food to Crowley. He took his plate of pancakes, not feeling nice enough to give him any butter or syrup, and made the short journey through the rooms of the bunker to get to the dungeon he was kept in.

Dean furrowed his brow when he heard strange noises like hollow bangs and a muffled yelling coming from the wall the prison room was behind.

"Winchester!" The sort-of-ex-demon was screaming out, banging his fists on the door. "Winchester, god dammit!"

Dean wrenched open the door, scowling, as he found a flustered Crowley, his knuckles bloodied, looking up at him with disbelief and annoyance shining in his greenish eyes.

"Oh, how nice of you to show up!" He rasped huskily. He must have really been yelling for a while. And his hands looked all bruised and the knuckles had split open, his wrists chafing from banging while handcuffed. "I've been at this for hours! Couldn't you fuckin' hear me?" He coughed and Dean roughly clinked down the pile of pancakes.

"Nope. Sound proof." He tapped the walls twice with his knuckles, and he looked pissed as he said the next thing. "And sorry if you got a little hungry," Dean shot out, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "I swear, you've got the patience of a four year old. You're my prisoner, remember? Don't expect first class service."

Crowley tightly gripped his shirt with his handcuffed hands that still had some mobility to be able to feed himself, and Dean regretted that he'd made them so loose. Crowley forced him forward, his nose just inches from Dean's. "You think this is about  _food_?" Crowley snarled, his teeth bared.

Dean shoved him off and stood a length away, pulling his gun out and aiming between his eyes. "Grab me like that again and I swear I'll blow your damn brains out," he growled.

"Dean, listen! I'm still part demon, I can sense they're coming." He rasped out, and rolled his eyes at Dean's blank face. "Demons, dumbass! They're coming for the egg, Dean!"

Dean's wrist sagged with the gun he was holding. "When," he barked out, a bad feeling pooling deep in his gut. "How long do we have to prepare?"

Crowley coughed again, a rough, rusty cough that had Dean shuddering. The chained man shook his head slowly. "I dunno." His voice graveled deep, sounding like little pops of sound. "All I know is they're close by. Haven't moved for the day."

Even though it was obvious it hurt the man to talk, Dean had to keep pressing for information. "Crowley _. How close_."

Crowley coughed into his fist again. "Fifty, maybe a hundred miles. Give or take."

Dean's eyes narrowed in suspicion. "Why would you wear out your whole damn voice and kill your hands like that just to tell me that their  _might_  be a  _chance_ that demons would come for the egg?"

Crowley turned his back to him and shrugged, slouching and slumping on himself so that Dean almost felt a little bit bad. The chains connected to his cuffs rattled as he reached for the fork.

Dean watched whilst propped against the doorway, obviously skeptical, but it didn't really seem like that whole thing was just for show. He wasn't even asking Dean to remove his handcuffs to dress his bloodied hands, a trick Dean thought he might try.

It was awkwardly silent as Dean watched Crowley's turned back as he ate.

 _What in the hell are you up to?_  He thought as he scrutinized his prisoner.

"Ran out of butter, I see." Crowley's voice rumbled grittily. "But these are still good on their own."

 _Nope_. This whole thing was too weird. He was beginning to doubt that this was all an act.  _Dean, don't be a dumbass! He's pulling a long con, stupid, it's practically his second nature._

"Fine. I'll bring around your dinner in a few hours." Dean grunted, trying to sound as unsympatheic as possible as he picked up a few plates leftover from other meals. "I'll leave this open a crack, to hear you only if the demons get closer, and that information only, got it? And don't even think about banging your hands again." Dean scowled, trying to sound threatening.  _You don't feel bad for him, remember?_ He had to remind himself.

"Casts are damn expensive, and frankly, I don't want to waste precious grocery money for my family on you. Understand?" Dean threatened, using his best drill-sergeant voice. But there was that word again, family. Dean made a mental note to stop being so goddamn sappy all the time, that Kevin wasn't his little brother (even though he acted like it ninety-nine percent of the time), that Cas didn't used to be part of his species and the little critters in that egg he kept with him certainly weren't Dean's in any way, shape or form.

But that still didn't stop him from getting a kind of warm, fuzzy feeling in his chest when he said the word. He made another mental note: _If you're gonna be sappy, keep that lovey-dovey shit to yourself._

Crowley didn't turn around but nodded. "I get it." His voice whistled through his windpipe.

"Good." Dean rolled the iron door shut again, keeping just an half an inch open in case Crowley had to warn them about the demons coming, and went his rounds to call the non-prisoners, aka everybody else, to have a nice, normal breakfast.

Well, it was normal until Dean forced himself to tell Sam, Cas and Kevin about the potential danger Crowley had warned them about, and how he could sense demons were in the area.

And Dean could almost see Cas stiffen as he clammed up, zipping his lips and throwing away the key. It seemed to be his default for whenever things got too heavy on him.

"So, he's still not talking?" Dean asked Sam, who shook his head. It was after dinner that same night, the newly human angel hadn't said one word to anybody at all.

"Still not talking." Sam echoed back, his eyes pleaded with Dean to adress the elephant in the room. "Dean-"

He pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. "Sam, I know. This whole thing is just going to shit, but I'm trying my best to hold everything together, okay? I know right now is pretty much the singlehandedly worst time for Cas to have...have kids or whatever, but there's nothing we can do."

Sam looked like he really didn't want to say what he was going to say next. "Cas is hurting, and scared, and right now he's pretty damn shaken up.." Sam started, and then he got that very Sammy expression on his face that seemed like he was looking at an injured puppy or something. "I think..it would be best..if we found..another fallen angel to take care of them." He tried out the words, carefully, like he was walking on thin ice.

"If it's not him, then who else should do it? Not to sound all sappy, but Cas is the only angel I trust." Dean pressed his lips together. "We'll just have to..really step in and help him."

"What about Joshua? Or Inias? They seemed alright. I'm sure we could find them somehow." Sam pressed, but Dean locked his jaw and looked away. He tried to think about what Cas's reaction would be, but chose to think about something else immediately. Just thinking about the pure pain in those already haunted blue eyes...

"No." Dean barked out, maybe a little harsher than he'd intended. "We can't do that to him, Sam. Have you seen how he clings to that thing? It wouldn't just be losing his children, Sam, in some way, it would be like the final blow to losing his grace for good." Just saying it out loud gave Dean a big spike of pain in his chest. He clearly clung to that egg, and not because he was  _so_  excited to have kids -it was because it was the last thing that would ever tie him to being an angel. Without it, he was just a regular human.

"Dean," Sam repeated. "We have to do something about this. We can't just expect him to be fine with taking care of two or  _more_  kids,  _fledglings_  at 's falling apart at the seams, Dean, can't you see that? How do you know he won't-"

"Sam."

The two brothers simultaneous whipped their heads to the source of the noise. Sam's gesturing hands were frozen in place, his mouth hung just slightly parted. Both the brothers had the same question burning in their minds, which was _how much of that did he hear_?

Cas wearily looked out at the two of them, a gentle hand planted in the middle of the egg, gently pressing it and its carrier into his body. Slight dark bags were under his eyes, and his hair was greasy and tousled in every which direction. He was wearing the unimaginably ugly pajama pants Sam had bought Dean one Christmas as a joke, plaid with laughing santas and reindeer with pom-pom noses, and his cold blue eyes flicked from one face to the other.

"Sam," He repeated, his voice rumbling, "Will you come with me to develop my disposable camera and purchase items for a book of scraps?" He looked so tired, he might have hopefully heard none of their conversation at all.

"Uh-" Sam clearly was not expecting him to say something like that. "Uh, okay sure Cas," he stammered. "Like, right now?"

The dark-haired man hesitated before nodding very slightly, and finally moving slowly from the doorpost and down the hall, his dragging footsteps making little shuffling noises.

That was weird.

"He's making a scrapbook?" Sam asked, turning to Dean again. "Since when?"

"Since he got that little camera of his, and I asked if he was making one." Dean finally cracked a smile, shaking his head a little. "I don't think he has any idea what it is." He nudged Sam on the shoulder. "Go on, go get some of that scrap booking stuff. I always thought you'd love all those little 3D stickers and doilies and crap."

Sam rolled his eyes. "You don't put  _doilies_  in a scrapbook, Dean."

Dean patted him on the shoulder just once. "That's why he asked for you, Samantha."

Sam snorted a little and gave Dean a bitch face, finally ducking out of the room to go find the grumpy ex-angel.

Dean laughed as he eavesdropped on their conversation.

'You're really gonna wear that, Cas?' There was an unintelligible mumbling, and then a very uncertain ' _well, oookaaaayyy._..'

"Sorry we had to park so far away, Cas." Sam said, having to cut his stride almost in half as Cas shuffled along slowly.

"I don't mind the walk." He replied quietly, keeping his eyes straight ahead and downcast. Then, he stopped dead in his tracks, his head bowed.

Sam took a step and realized the man was no longer next to him. "Cas?" He asked gently, turning to face him. "Are you okay?"

No reply, not even a gesture to show he'd heard. Sam's eyes traced down to what Cas was staring at. A dead raven, one shiny black wing flattened on the cement, and its head was smashed like a car had hit it, and it had probably flapped a few feet before dying on the sidewalk. A thin trial of ants were already marching to and from the dead bird.

 _Oh, great_ , Sam thought, _we should have walked on the other side of the street. Dammit, what's he going to do now?_

"Blackbird." Cas whispered. Sam kept quiet, keeping his head down as he stared at the mangled bird and watched the ants crawl over the corpse. A silent second went by.

"Yeah." Sam felt like an idiot, but he had to say something to break the cold ice forming between them.

"I used to be a Blackwing too." Cas's voice wobbled. "...I miss them."

Sam didn't expect it when Cas ducked his head into his chest, arms wrapping around his midsection and squeezing much tighter than he'd been expecting. Sam's arms hung there for a second in shock before he gently folded them around Cas's upper back. Castiel's back was jumping with hiccups. It took a second of disconnect Sam to realize he was sobbing.

They stayed like that for close to five minutes.

And when Sam ran the rest of the errands with him, the question about a change in ownership just kept itching at the back of his mind.


	7. Chapter 7

_A few days later..._

"Wow, you're done already?" Dean asked in amusement as he saw Cas silently toting the thick photo album with him to the table. He'd been holed up in his room working on it ever since they picked up the developed photos.

"I only finished the first part, but I used all my pictures, yes." Cas answered.

Dean laughed and flipped to the first page. There was that picture he'd snapped of him making pancakes, along with a caption underneath it. "This is Dean Winchester. Father must consume sustenance now that he is not an angel. Dean makes food for us to keep us healthy. You do not need to eat food."

Dean blinked and turned to the next page. He'd taken a semi-blurry picture of Sam in bed, sleeping, when he'd still been having trouble getting out of bed a few days ago. "This is Samuel Winchester. He is not feeling very well after he tried to shut all demons into hell and almost killed himself. But he will get better because he is a strong man. Father has helped Sam before with his mental scars from Hell but I could not help this time."

Dean frowned a little. "Uh, Cas?' He said, touching the caption. "Um, maybe this wouldn't be the best things to write for little kids. Maybe a little less big words? And kind of scary things are in here, Cas."

He tipped his head to the side. "I'm only saying what is the truth, Dean."

Dean shrugged. "I mean, okay.." 

Cas frowned, keeping silent, as he then simply turned to the next page.

It was a horrible selfie, just the very corner had part of Cas's face, he had this squinty-eyed expression on, as if he were confused. The bright white egg was in its little black carrier, and his arm was obscuring most of the photo. A little arrow was pointing to the tiny bit of Cas in the picture, and it had the title "Father." Then the caption said-"Dean got me this to carry you around easier."

Dean finally smiled. "Cas, this is...this is actually really sweet." He laughed. "But I mean, isn't it kind of..weird to have them call you 'Father'? How about Dad?"

"Dad." Cas tried the word out on his lips, and he looked almost confused as he kept his eyes downcast. "Dean, I feel sick."

Dean looked up, confused at how quickly he'd stood up. "Cas, I mean-"

The former angel quickly stood up, rushing out the door.

"Cas!" Dean called after him, but he was already out of the room. "Ah, dammit, Cas."

He rushed out of the room, trying to find him. "Cas, wait!"

He searched for a few minutes, searching every room and finally finding him outside. Castiel was curled up, sitting on a root of a tree and hugging his knees tightly, keeping his eyes squeezed shut.

"Cas." Dean panted out, coming up the slight incline and plopping down next to him. "What's up, man? First you're all excited to show me your scrapbook, and then you run off like a friggin' axe murderer is after you."

Cas didn't open his eyes as he answered. "I can't do it."

Dean sighed and put his hand on his shoulder. " _Cas_. Yes, you can."

"I can't Dean! I really can't!" He exclaimed, frustrated. "That first night, when I went to the roof? I wanted to..to.." He dug his palms into his eyes. "I wanted to smash it. I thought about hurting them."

"But you  _didn't_  hurt them. As far as I can see, you've been nothing but gentle and protective over them." Dean tried to reassure him by squeezing his shoulder a little. "When they hatch I'm sure you'll do the same thing."

Cas hiccuped with a sob and didn't speak up for a second. "D-Dean..there's..something I need to.." He didn't finish his sentence before showing Dean. He pulled up the sleeves of the coat he was borrowing, revealing a criss-cross of vertical scabs and slits, blemishing his smooth, pale wrist.

"Cas!" Dean exclaimed, jumping up. "Oh my god, you-"

Cas turned away so he wouldn't have to look at him. "I-the first one was an accident. When I was using the scissors for the scrapbook. But I realized that all this pain is what I deserve. So I...I made more, but not on accident. And then it hurt too badly, so I took a lot of medicine and then it went numb and...and I felt sick..." Tears were popping into his eyes. "I felt bad in my stomach from guilt and from the medicine so..my throat started squeezing and food came out backwards and it was burning and tasted like sour and pancakes." He covered his face again. "I didn't want to tell you."

"This was last night, Cas?" Dean said quietly, and he watched the back of his head of black hair nod.

"I'm a mess, Dean." Cas said clearly. "If I hurt myself..what if I hurt them?"

"You won't, Cas." Dean quickly replied, but he couldn't help but have a bad feeling in the pit of his stomach.

"How do you know that?" He grumbled, smoothing down the purple cuts on his arm absent-mindedly.

"I know, Cas. Because you've always pulled through. You told me that you thought you might..opt out when you got rid of the Leviathans, when you killed your family members. Remember that, Cas?" Dean urged gently.

The man avoided his eyes and gave a minuscule nod. 

"Yeah, well, you didn't. And I'm...I'm damn glad you didn't. I need you here, man." Dean sighed and pressed his palms to his cheeks and rubbed, and Cas could hear the faint scrubbing of his bristles against his callouses, and he finally ventured to look at him again. Dean finally clasped his hands together in his lap and tipped his head back to look at the green lacy canopy of leaves bobbing overhead.

"I...I don't want to imagine if..." He swallowed his words and instead lightly placed his palm on the small of Cas's back, being extra careful to not brush any of his gashes. Cas once again felt a warm glow on his cheeks and a slight fluttering in his tummy. 

"I'm not too good with my words, Cas, okay, you knew that." Dean cleared his throat and his hand was gone once again, leaving a sudden coldness in its absense. "Just- come talk to me. About anything, anytime... I can't...I can't lose you. Not after everything." 

Cas nodded somberly. "I understand." 

"Want to, uh, show me the rest of your scrapbook?" Dean pressed off his knees to stand up once again and he offered Cas a hand. 

"I'd like that," Cas replied softly, his hand finding and pressing to the egg for comfort once more. On the way back, their hands awkwardly brushed and bumped against each other and Cas was overwhelmed with the urge to spread his fingers and capture Dean's within the gaps. Instead, he quickly drew away and lay his palm on Eggy's shell and Dean shoved his hand into his pocket. They didn't mention it. 

* * *

Dean was exhausted. Even after a long dry spell, Sam had been sick again, Dean remained by his side as he coughed and retched with his head buried in the toilet bowl for hours. The smell of stomach acid felt like it was still lingering on his skin even though he'd changed into a fresh pair of clothing. He was just beginning to drift off to sleep when he heard his bedroom door creak open and he saw a soft glow of light from behind his eyelids. 

"Dean?" Cas called out uncertainly, and Dean peeked open one eye to see the man hanging by the door, his hand perched on his knob, a dejected slump in his shoulder. 

"Hmph." Dean ran a hand down his face and rustled in his blankets, sitting upright. "Mm. What." His mouth seemed to be failing to coordinate with his mouth at this hour. 

"My...my wing-cuts hurt." Cas explained timidly, still hovering by the doorway as if he were ready to turn on his heel and leave any second. "May I come in?" 

"Yup," Dean replied and rolled over, pulled open his dresser drawer and fumbled around to find the rattling bottle of pills that he could hear rolling around in his drawer but he just couldn't quite see in the dim light yet. "Got 'em right here." 

Cas came up to the bedside, his face was in a pained grimace. "They hurt more than normal. I think they've torn open again. Could you...?" 

 Dean grunted and sat up, pooling some of his soft blankets in his lap, and he fumbled for his bedside lamp and clicked it on. The room was enveloped in a warm yellow glow, Cas was in a pair of boxers borrowed from Dean, and a button-up nightshirt, also borrowed from Dean. For some reason he couldn't explain, that realization made Dean smile inwardly. Cas wasn't wearing the carrier at this time of night, simply cradling the egg in the crook of his arm. 

"The bandages feel wet." Cas explained. "I think I've bled through." 

"Ah, shit- kay, shirt off." Dean swung his legs to the side of the bed at sat, watching as Cas slowly began to work to untwist each button. Dean swallowed, and trained his eyes on his nightstand instead. He was  _not_  about to ogle at his friend undressing. 

Cas turned around, there were spots of red beginning to bleed through the two long strips of white gauze bandages rolled down the length of his back. 

"Oh shit, Cas..." Dean hesitated to reach up and peel away the corner of the gauze, he stopped when it earned a sharp intake of breath. 

"Here," Dean patted the side of the bed next to him and moved over, the bed squeaking slightly. "Sit here. I think I have something in my drawers." 

Cas sat down, wincing, and Dean immediately felt bad how angrily he'd punched through his pocket and scolded him the other day. Dean dug through his first aid kit and pulled out his roll of gauze, the tube of neosporin, white athletic tape as well as a bottle of hydrogen peroxide and a few cotton balls. 

"We have to clean it again. And I'm not gonna lie- it'll hurt like a bitch." Dean told him softly, dumping his supplies on top of his blanket. Cas nodded somberly, his knuckles turning white from gripping the sheets. Then Dean remembered- his flask he had tucked away was still full. 

He put up a finger for Cas to wait for one more second and pulled out the old silver thing, and he handed it to the ex-angel who took it into uncertain hands. 

"Take a couple of swigs. It'll take the edge off, I promise." Dean began to pick at the corner of the old athletic tape that was holding the bandaging in place. Cas obediently took the opening between his teeth and tipped it backward, swallowing and then screwing up his face and sticking out his tongue. Dean slowly began to peel away the bandaging- the semi-healed lacerations had torn open again, and Dean scowled. It looked painful. 

"It's strong." Cas said quietly. 

"Yeah, sorry about that. If you're really hating it I'll pour you a cup of OJ." Dean finally was done peeling away the bandages from the one side, the ex-angel's back was like a lipless mouth, Dean only just now noticed how jagged the cuts appeared to be. 

"No, it's all right." Cas replied, wincing a little as Dean began to peel away the second bandage. "It's kind of hot. In my stomach. Is it supposed to feel like that?" 

Dean couldn't help but chuckle. "Yeah. You're alright." 

Cas was silent the whole time Dean dabbed at the lacerations with the peroxide-soaked cotton ball, he could feel it bubbling and tickling under his fingernails, and he didn't even want to imagine how it felt for Cas as white foam suddenly fizzed out from the red. Cas did take a few more swigs from the flask, and Dean smirked as he saw a bit of red in a splotchy pattern beginning to spread on his cheeks and on his temples. 

"I didn't know you got alcohol flush." Dean chuckled, taking the tube of neosporin and squeezing a bit out onto his fingers, rolling it around to be warm and spreadable. 

"Me neither," Cas replied innocently. "My face feels hot." And Dean had to laugh again. 

"You doin' alright? It hurts less now?" Dean asked, tentatively beginning to spread the clear substance into the wounds. He noticed the flush was making the skin on the back of his neck a glowing pinkish, and his skin was warmer to the touch. It was kind of funny, Dean thought. Cas breathed in sharply but nodded. 

"Much better. Thank you, Dean." He kept his head bowed as Dean carefully spread the antibiotic down along his back. Dean carefully rolled the gauze down the cuts, finally covering up the angry red with clean white. His fingers dragged gently down the ex-angel's smooth, tan skin by his spine, and Cas shuddered. He must not have done that on purpose. Cas felt the stickiness as the tape was stuck into place, Dean ripping and tearing it with his teeth. Cas watched, his eyes a bit glassy. Dean held the roll up to his mouth and met Cas's eyes, ripping another piece of tape loudly. 

"I think  _you_  had a little bit too much to drink, mister." Dean chuckled as he smoothed down one of the last pieces of tape, holding the bandages in place in a few horizontal stripes. "Ah, least you'll sleep better now." 

Cas blinked drowsily at him. "Dean can I tell you something?" He asked, and for the first time Dean noticed the slight heaviness of his tongue as he spoke. 

"Didn't I tell you, anything anytime?" Dean began to collect the supplies, avoiding the angel's eyes. He couldn't bring himself to feel uncomfortable- it was too damn cosy in here, with the soft bedspread barely wrinkled and the soft yellow light of his lamp spilling out onto the both of them. 

"My stomach felt hot because of the alcohol, and you said that was normal, but- it also feels hot sometimes when I'm with you. My stomach gets warm and I feel like there's insects in there, crawling around...I don't think that's normal, Dean. I think something's wrong with me." Cas's head nodded sleepily, his blinks getting longer.

"There's nothing wrong with you, Cas." Dean felt his own ears and the back of his neck beginning to get hot. "Just... yeah. You're all right."  

"Okay," He replied with a yawn. "Thank you for ev'rything." 

"I guess you didn't need those pain pills after all, huh?" Dean's arm shot out to restrain him as he was trying to stand up. "No, Cas. Hey- we don't want them to tear more. Just sleep here tonight. I'll head out to the couch or something." 

Cas nodded, and for the first time didn't resist as Dean softly pried the egg from his arms and sat it on the bed. "Alright, come here, I gotcha..." Dean helped to slowly lower him onto his stomach, careful not to move him too much so the cuts wouldn't re-open, and he pulled the blanket up over his bare back up to his shoulders. His bare skin shone a gorgeous, smooth color in the yellow lamplight. Like the rays of the setting sun reflecting off of sun-kissed skin, Dean thought. Cas sighed contently, his eyes fluttering closed. 

"You're so good to me, Dean." He sighed, his eyes still closed, a minuscule yet happy smile on his lips. "Am I lucky to have you." He eyes slit open just a little as he said that, he squinted up into Dean's face. His cheeks were tinted with small splotches of pink. It was kind of endearing. 

"Yeah, well, uh....sleep tight." Dean muttered gruffly. He reached to pat him on the back, but realized his wounds would be smarting badly. He held the base of Cas's fever-warm neck instead. "Try not to move around too much, kay?" He swiped comfortingly at the back of his neck over his lymph node as if on instinct- he'd been checking Sam's for the past few weeks, anyway. 

"Mm-hm." Cas's eyes were drooping closed, but he reached for the egg by his arm and tucked into loosely into the crook of his elbow. "I like the memory foam. It's like sleeping on a marshmallow." He mumbled, snuggling his cheek further onto the pillow. 

"Alright, Cas. It's time for you to sleep." Dean chuckled. Drunk Cas was...well, he was interesting. "I'll see you in the morning." 

Dean was halfway toward the door when Cas spoke up again. "The couch will be cold." He grumbled. 

"Ah," Dean replied, waving the comment away. "Don't worry about me. It's fine." 

"There's room," Cas mumbled, his word partly obscured by his pillow.  

There  _was_  enough room so that Dean wouldn't be touching Cas if he slipped back into his bed. And Cas wasn't going to be doing much moving around anyway, right? He and Sam would share the bed sometimes if the room came extra cheap. But, there had been too many incidents of Dean getting pissed because Sam hogged all the blankets and he'd wake up shivering, so they didn't do that anymore unless it was dire straights when it came to their money supply. So this wasn't a big deal, right?  _Except Sam and I are brother_ s. Dean thought. 

Dean's bones ached from how exhausted he was, and he knew he'd sleep rockily if he was out on the cramped couch all night. The bunker was a big place, and it could get freezing at night. He looked back toward his bed- Cas looked peaceful, sleeping there on his stomach. The blankets had managed to slip down and just a bit of his bandages were showing over the top of the quilt. It wouldn't be right for Dean to leave Cas in this condition, right? What if he needed something?

"All right. Only because I don't want you getting up and risking tearing those again, okay?" Dean came back to the bed and folded over the blanket to slip under it. "So you let me know if you need something."

"Mm." Cas hummed sleepily. Cas was even facing the other way too, it wasn't going to be weird. He just needed someone to watch over him for the night, right? And Dean could use some sleep too. It was just a friend caring for another friend, watching out for him. 

Dean slipped underneath his warm covers on the opposite side, and it was roomy enough that it felt like he was sleeping alone.  _Almost_. 

Dean's mind at first kept screaming at him  _weird, weird, this is weird,_ but shit if it hadn't been a long time since he'd fallen asleep with someone inches away breathing softly in and out, their body warmth spreading over to his side. He'd missed it more than he'd thought. Cas's soft breathing lulled him to sleep, and Dean couldn't remember sleeping deeper. 


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warning for self harm and depression in this chapter. Please don't read if these subjects easily upset you!  
> I'm going to finally put all of this up after a long break. Sorry to make you all wait so long! I hope you like the rest of this story :)

When Dean awoke, Cas was still slumbering soundly next to him. At first, Dean was a bit disoriented- when had that happened? Then he remembered cleaning out the cuts, helping him to lay down on his stomach, not wanting to abandon him in his condition.  
  
Dean yawned and swung his legs over the side of the bed, and he glanced over at Cas once again. The blankets had slipped lower, they left much of his bare back exposed and the excessive amounts of iron in the bunker tended to eat up all the warmth, so Dean gently shrugged the quilt a little higher over him.  
  
He looked so peaceful sleeping- his dark hair was getting longer, Dean realized. Had it even grown when he'd been an angel? His hair was a bit wavier now that it was longer, it appeared more tousled. His corneas darted back and forth under the thin skin of his eyelids, his eyelashes fluttered against his cheeks. His curled fist was resting a few inches away from his cheek, and one of his knuckles twitched, something from his dream.  
  
His pink lips were just slightly parted and pressed up to the pillowcase and there was a darkened splotch wicking onto the white fabric- oh my god, he did not drool on my pillow! Dean realized a little too late he'd been staring for too long. Well, it was probably payback for all the times Cas had creepily watched Dean sleeping, right?  
  
Dean turned around to go to the bathroom, yawning and scratching his ass. He should have been feeling weirded out, but he wasn't. Last night had been comfortable, he'd slept well, there was nothing to Cas staying the night. Dean felt pretty good, actually. He smiled as he stepped into the bathroom and splashed his face. He was about to start shaving when he heard a loud gasp.  
  
"Cas..?" He put the razor down and turned around.  
  
" _Dean_!" Cas shrieked, and Dean burst out of the bathroom. Cas looked pale in the face- and Dean heard the faint tapping coming from the egg, too.  
  
"Holy shit." Dean breathed, rooted to the spot for a second. Cas looked mortified.

"CODE RED!" Dean was yelling into the bunker, ushering Cas quickly as Cas squinted at the egg, letting himself be pushed along by Dean.

"EGGY'S HATCHING! I repeat, EGGY'S HATCHING!" Dean bellowed, and Cas frowned and looked to Dean.

"Is this really necessary?" He said irritably, and Dean smirked at him.

"CODE RED, BUNKER PEOPLE! EVERYONE GET OUT HERE!"

Cas dug a pinky finger in his ear in irritation. He held tight to the smooth surface of the egg, his fingers beginning to tremble.

 _Not now. Please, not now._  He wished that this whole thing was going to be a false alarm.

Kevin and Sam stumbled into the room, Kevin had a graphite smear on his forehead from all the writing he'd been doing- he must have fallen asleep at the desk again, and Sam was disoriented from his sleep.

"When did we agree that it would be called 'Code Red'?" Sam let out a huff of air, somewhat resembling a laugh, and ran his hand through his long brown hair.

"We didn't. I just made it up." Dean smiled. He clapped Cas on the shoulder, being careful to avoid his back. Cas got a startled look on his face, his eyelids flying wide. Cas felt Dean's hand gently squeeze his shoulder, he didn't realize how tense he was. "Cas. Take a deep breath, okay? Everything's going to be okay."

The tapping was louder now, but there still wasn't any change to the smooth surface yet.

"I mean, all I know is that you're not supposed to interfere or something, right?" Sam spoke up, scrutinizing the white egg.

"Yeah. Like how baby birds have to fight themselves out, or they'd be too weak." Kevin piped up. "At least, I think. I was kind of more of a nose-in-a-book kid anyway."

"Dean." Cas was frowing. "I must..relieve myself."

Dean couldn't help but smile a little. "Geez, man, right now?"

Cas grumpily nodded and shoved the egg from his lap, much too roughly for anyone's liking, as Sam shot out to grab it. He was rushing away before anyone could comment on it.

Cas strode into the bathroom, his breath coming in quick bursts from his throat. He gripped his hair tight on the sides of his head, and saw the reflection in the mirror. His pupils were little pinpricks of black within a sea of terrified blue. His face had grown pale, his expression was tight and each panicked breath flared his nostrils.

 _That is not me._ A strong voice bellowed in his mind.

This person staring back at him looked nothing like he really did. Without a body, Castiel was tall, completely andeogenous, with long arms and legs. He missed the white ring of a halo around his head, which used to have long, beautiful black hair that swayed around his straight, pale hips.

He missed his eyes the most. His true form had beautiful eyes; polished black opal with shatters of pearly cerulean and neon greens and twinkling indigos. He missed his hands, pale and slender and unblemished. Jimmy's hands were stubby with wrinkles and ugly nailbeds. He missed his collarbones, which sprouted small little black feathers with sheens of purple and blue, spikes sprouting along the slender collarbones like a necklace.

He missed his  _goddamn_  wings.

_You've killed. Rebelled. Cast your family out._

_You don't deserve to protect the last of your kind._

_You're the reason, Castiel._

_You killed the angel race._

"No!" Cas reeled up and punched the mirror. Cracks like a spiderweb formed in the silver, shattering his features like a picasso painting.

_You killed your family. Look into your borrowed eyes, Castiel._

_I don't know what the Winchesters see in you._

_What Dean sees in you._

_You're a fuckup._

The second punch hurt less as anger pumped through his veins. Silver sparkled back at him, finally obscuring much of his reflection. But not all of it.

_Look at those blue eyes, Castiel. Better get used to them. You'll never have those black opals from your trueform again._

_Bam! T_ he mirror was splotched with red, it slipped down a sharp edge like a bloody teardrop.

_He'll never love you, Castiel._

"Cas?! What the hell are you doing in there?" Dean banged on the door, unsuccessfully twisting the doorknob and banging again. Cas's fingers delicously split as he dug out a shard of the mirror, leaving clear little red fingerprints like red-lipstick kisses on the silver.

"Castiel Winchester, you answer me!" Dean hollered agrily, pounding with his fist. "Open this fucking door  _now_ , you bastard!"

Cas paused for a split milisecond when he heard that title. Castiel Winchester. He remembered on the roof, when Dean said he was family now. He considered putting the silver shard down and letting himself open that door.

 _You don't deserve family._ The voice inside his head snarled.

His fingers stung as soft pads bit further into the sharp edge of the broken mirror.

Castiel may be new to many human things, but Death was not one of them. It was one of the things new inhaibitants of heaven wouldn't shut up about for weeks after joining them. How, why, what it felt like.

Cas tipped the shard to a different angle than the scissors he'd used the other day. His wrist was still purpling and little dotted scabs like tiny garnet gemstones still riddled in horizontal lines, like little equals signs all stacked up on each other.

Castiel = nothing.

Cas pressed the sharp tip of the shard to his skin, hissing with the pain that shot through his arm. He dragged it down, skin splitting open with bright red, cutting easily like water over the bow of a ship. Vertically. He knew what that meant.

Red. What a strange color for blood. It used to be silver, up in heaven. Silver with a pearly sheen like mercury, but more beautiful than that. Dull, ugly, iron, human red, red, red.

"Put it down. Now."

Dean's voice. It was saying something that Cas hadn't even noticed when Dean had kicked the door in. Dean's eyebrows were narrowed over his peridot eyes and he was fuming. "Not even another milimeter."

Cas froze, his fingers biting into the sharp corners. He wanted to finish the job. Black circles pounded behind his eyes as he felt a tinny buzzing in his ears. Human red, red, red was spilling quickly and thickly. Cas felt like his mind was halfway there. He felt his face tighten and drain of blood in a cold rush, his mind made things sharp but fuzzy that the same time. His ears buzzed and rang.

"Dean," He managed to choke out before his eyes rolled back into his head and he passed out cold, falling to the side by still snagging his ribs on the sharp craggy piece of the mirror.

...

"You're probably hungry."

Those were the first words Cas heard as he came to. It was neither Sam nor Dean's voice, but Kevin's. Cas felt his arm had been dressed with bandages wound all around his forearm, and a bag of red was hanging from a little metal pole. He felt stiches in his aching side.

"You lost a lot of blood." Kevin explained, as Cas's eyes darted to the bag and the to his bandages. "Jimmy's got a rare type, O+. Good thing that's what I have too. You probably won't need more. That's just in case."

"Where's Hope?" Cas's tongue felt heavy in his mouth. "Where are my babies?"

"..Hope?" Kevin asked, cocking his head to the side. "You mean the egg?"

"Where are my fledglings." Cas demanded weakly, more in a moan than he would have liked, his eyelids fluttering as his head lolled to the side. "I need my Hope. Bring me my egg."

Kevin looked nervous. "Uh...Cas...it's not much of an egg anymore."

Cas's body clenched at this as he shot up in his bed, his eyes wide. "I... _missed_..." How could he have been so selfish? Why did he have to do that all before they were almost here?

He felt sick inside. He wished he hadn't consumed all the pain pills the other night, only to throw them up again. He needed to feel numb. He craved it.

"Well, two are out so far. We think there are more inside, but we don't want to interfere." Kevin explained, scrubbing the hairs on the back of his head.

"Bring them to me." Cas demanded. "Everything. The egg, my fledglings. Bring them  _now_." His head gave a throb and Cas gingerly touched it. Being a human was absolutely dispecable. His eyes fluttered shut.

"I'll...uh..I'll go get them. And some food." Kevin's footsteps disappeared, and the fallen angel sighed.

 _Fuck_.

What was he supposed to do now? He was dangerous to himself, he'd be dangerous for these little angels...

"Cas," He heard Dean's voice this time. "I have a very strange question for you."

Cas opened his eyes just a peek. He saw a blurry image of Dean holding something, a wrapping of blue blankets. "Are angels into reincarnation?"

"Of course not." Cas insisted grumpily. "Why would you think that?"

"It's just that, this one has a pair of wings but a line of down reaching all the way down his back. Like he's meant to sprout more or something. I didn't know if this was Gabriel or Raphael in a new body or something." Dean shrugged and Cas felt his head spinning a little more. "Well, in that case, I say we name 'im 'Bobby.' "

Cas's eyes forced themselves closed as he felt something heavy press to his chest.

"No, Dean, we are not naming an archangel 'Bobby.' " Cas had to smile just a little. He finally looked down to the tiny face, which was nestled into the light blue blanket. A chubby, uncoridinated hand opened and closed. Cas stared at him and the fledgling stared back with light blue eyes. His nose was tiny and button-like, his eyes wide with surprise as tiny lips, shiny from drool, puckered like a little fish.

"C'mon, he even looks like him!" Dean insisted, pointing out the tuft of light brown hair, as if that justified it.

"Dean he does not look anything like Bobby Singer did." Cas had to smile, finally.

Cas saw the small set of wings, they were a eagle-brown and just as uncorinated as his hands, flapping and stretching and trying to tuck next to his body. Cas was silent for a second as he simply stared at him.

"You said there were two." Cas finally said after a moment.

Both Kevin and Dean broke into a grin. "Oh, you're going to love Red." Dean said. "Let me go get him. He's with Sam."

"You named another angel  _Red_?" Cas bit his teeth together. These were angels for God's sake, not your average southern trailer trash.

"It's just a nickname, Cas. You'll see." Kevin was the one who hopped up this time, leaving Dean and Cas alone.

 _Great. Here comes the lecture_.

"You doing alright?" Dean asked, reaching out and letting 'Bobby' wrap his entire hand around one of his fingers. "I hoped you'd feel better once you got to meet them."

Cas couldn't tear his eyes away from the tiny fledgling.

"No." He answered gruffly. "I..." He faded off, he didn't want to say.

"Dean, I need help." He admitted, avoiding Dean's eyes.

"Of course we'll help you." His tone was sweeter than Cas expected.

"I'm sick." Cas felt tears welling up in his eyes. "I think I'm sick, Dean."

"I know. I know what it can feel like. " Dean answered quietly. "Like you just want to escape everything."

His eyes narrowed again, his jaw protruding angrily. "We're going to help you get better." Dean put his hand on his shoulder, and Cas avoided his eyes, staring into the fledgling's instead.

It was a tense moment before Sam finally came back, trailed by Kevin who was haphazardly toting a bowl of soup.

"How you doin', Cas?" Sam asked cheerily, coming into the room. Cas lifted his head and saw Sam holding a bundle of mexican blankets. "Sorry, we kinda named him already. But I mean, just look at him."

'Red' was much smaller than 'Bobby' was, possibly because he was only a seraph. Sam pressed him to the open space on Cas's chest, and the ex-angel looked at him. Right now, the smaller fledgling was sleeping, so Cas couldn't see his eyes. But the wispy hair on his head was a bright red, and a floppy bright white wing was just barely in sight.

He looked at the tiny, pale little face. He wondered what color his eyes were under those little lids. He tried to think of a name.

_Click!_

Cas looked up, confused as he squinted his eyes. Kevin lowered his smartphone. "Sorry. It was just really cute."

In fact, Cas seemed to be the only one not that phased by the tiny babies. Sam and Kevin had these bright smiles on their faces, and Dean was doing that thing where he was trying really, really hard not to put that loopy smile on his face either.

"I would like to be with the others when they hatch." Cas requested. "I would like you to bring the egg here."

Cas already felt the small angels beginning to pull from his energy to feed themselves, seeing earthly food would do nothing for their growth. He was able to manipulate his soul in a way the humans didn't know how, opening it up and letting them take anything they needed without barriers.

'Red' must have been low on energy and sleeping. He finally squirmed a little in Cas's arms and let out a few little coos, finally opening his eyes. A deep, matte blue. The color that could deepen to green or stay the same, it was hard to tell.

"Here, Cas." Dean was the only one who came into the room this time. He was carrying the egg, which had a collapsed top but a very faint tapping could still be heard. "I...everyone else is eating dinner, but Kev brought you some soup if you want. I can take those little buggers so you can get some sleep."

Cas pinched his eyes closed and shook his head. "They stay with me."

"Okay. Just..." Dean was about to say 'be careful' but decided against it. "Just rest, okay?"

Cas nodded and slipped his eyes closed. "Dean." He mumbled in a gravelly voice. He felt one of the fledglings press and wiggle closer to his side, where he felt a lot of his energy begin to sap away. "I don't know what to do now."

"I don't think any of us do." Dean answered. "We're just rolling with what we got."

Cas didn't answer right away. He looked at the little red-headed angel instead.

"Will you..." He licked his lips and seemed like he didn't want to continue. "Will you watch over me?"

Dean pulled a chair up and sat on it backward, resting his chin on his folded arms. "I'll be right here. Whenever you need me."

That put a warm feeling in Cas's chest. He bent his neck down and kissed the little forehead of one angel and then the other. Dean covered his mouth with his palm and tried to not let any of his very un-manly sounds leak out.

"Thought of names for them yet?" Dean asked, clearing his throat and making an effort to try and speak just a little lower of a tone than usual.

"Yes," Castiel said, somewhat uncertainly. "Red will go by Samandriel."

Dean smiled a little at that. "I like that, Cas." He grinned a little. "But you know I'm still calling him Red, right?"

Cas dipped his head and finally smiled. "Yes."

"What about Bobby?" Dean asked, shuffling to try and get comfortable in the chair.

Cas yawned. "I'm not quite sure about him yet."

There was a silence.

"Geez, I feel creepy." Dean laughed. "How did you do this all the time without feeling the least bit creepy?" Dean reached out and softly curled his fingers around Cas's palm, smudging his thumb in soft circles on the back of his hand.  
  
"You're gonna be okay, buddy."

Cas smiled just a little and shuffled his head into his pillow. "Goodnight, Dean."

"G'night, Cas."


	9. Chapter 9

"Cas. Hey. Wake up."

He groaned as his shoulder was nudged. He was especially tired from the babies sucking the energy from him. He came to half-awareness, he knew that Red and Bobby were still sleeping and safe in his arms, and Dean nudged him again.

"Hey. Open your eyes, or you're going to miss it again, sleepyhead." Dean rolled his shoulder again.

His eyes opened just in time to see a little something pull themselves from the shell of the egg, moving olive-skinned limbs and making tiny noises. The fledgling had silvery wings, still downy and somewhat wet, and Dean gently scooped it into his arms.

"Aww. Looks like it's a girl this time." He said softly. Cas wondered if he was dreaming all of this. "Look at these pretty little brown eyes, Cas. I can hold onto her, you look like your arms are full."

Cas felt like he needed to sleep for a week. It had been nice and numb while he was sleeping; now he felt the cuts on his forearm and ribs stinging, as well as the dull throb and itch of his healing back.

"Iofiel." Cas said quietly.

Dean was shamelessly looking at the little girl and making little baby noises, and perked up as he heard Cas speak. He reddened a little, as if he forget Cas was awake. "Sorry, I didn't catch that."

"Her name will be Iofiel."

Dean looked surprised. "Wow. That was quick." He gently began bobbing up and down, cradeling the small back as the silver wings flapped sleepily. "That name mean anything?"

Cas frowned. "Another sister I killed. One that meant a lot to me." He indicated to his eye, the one that had dibbled blood down his cheek the time he'd been controlled.

"Oh." Dean responded, not quite sure what else to say. "...It's a pretty name, Cas."

Cas nodded silently, and eyed his bandaged forearm. The stitches were itchy and the cut was still stinging. Dean noticed and stopped bobbing.

"Why'd you do it, Cas?" He asked quietly. "I mean, you missed their hatching and..why the mirror?"

The newly human Cas licked his lips and looked away. "Because I didn't like what I saw." He answered quietly, slowly.

He didn't see but heard Dean slip onto the side of the bed. "What didn't you like, Cas? I mean, don't get me wrong, but that vessel of yours isn't _that_ bad looking."

Cas swallowed and continued. "Because that's all it is, Dean. A vessel." He finally looked up and met Dean's eyes, which were narrowed in concern.

"What do you really look like, Cas?"

The angel felt a deep ache in his chest again. He rattled out a breath before he spoke up again. "Tall. Pure white skin, long arms and legs and long fingers. Long black hair and black opal eyes. I had a halo too, you know. And my wings were black."

Dean had a little smile on his face. "Y'know, I'd pictured them to be black. In my head."

Cas mustered up a painful smile that vanished quickly. "Thank you."

Dean stroked Io's silvery wings, which shuffled happily as his hand passed over. Dean smiled. "What about these guys? This can't be their true forms, right?"

Cas shook his head. "It seems they've created bodies for themselves. They were not like fetuses inside of the egg, but rather..a large, contained amount of grace, or pure creation. Some of it must have been used to make the earthly bodies as well as the souls."

Dean just couldn't seem to keep his hands off the fledgling's wings. He reached out and gently touched Red's, and the white feathers twitched and he nuzzled closer to Cas's chest. "What about their wings? Are we going to have to hide them their whole lives?"

Cas had been wondering the same thing. "Probably not. They might be able to conceal them in time, learning to pull them into another dimension unpercieved by humans."

Dean smiled as he looked down at the little girl sleeping soundly in his arms. "I can't believe I'm taking care of triplet friggin' baby angels. I never expected even one kid, and I just assumed they'd be human."

"What makes you so sure there are only three?" Cas asked, lifting an eyebrow.

"Well, I mean-" He took a look at Cas's face and whipped around to see the egg, rocking back and forth as little pieces of shell were pushed aside, one last fledgling making their exit, using its wings to create a large enough hole to climb out of.

Cas handed Dean one of the babies he already held in his hands, Bobby, and helped to gently clear away some of the shell for the baby, who fell out much earlier than they'd expected. The egg completely collapsed, containing nothing but air now.

Cas wasted no time in scooping the tiny child up and bringing him to his chest. His breath caught in his throat; the wings were black. Just like his used to be.

"Jesus, he's small." Dean said in astonishment. This fledgling must have been two-thirds the size of Red, who was smallish already. He had tiny, pitch black wings and a head of wispy white-blonde hair. "Shit. I don't know if he needs help or something."

Cas once again opened his soul and felt the little one begin to feed right away. "He'll be fine, Dean. With a little sustenance and sleep."

"Food? I thought you said angels don't eat. Or sleep." Dean asked, confused.

"Not human food. Energy. And they've only been sleeping because they must create some of their own energy when I can't supply it."

Dean looked surprised at this. "You've been feeding them?" He realized how exhausted Cas looked, and not just from his usual waking-up grogginess.

"Yes. But it's going to be much more difficult with four." Especially because the smallest one needed the most.

Dean patted his knee. "We'll find a way to fix that. We've got five people here- well, sorry, four, excluding Crowley-" (this earned him a very peeved glare from Cas) "-and we can make something work, alright?"

He nodded, just wanting to go back to sleep.

"I never saw myself taking care of  _quadruplets_." Dean chuckled a little, correcting himself. "You were right about there being more."

Cas smiled and looked at the tiny blonde head.

"You know, he kinda looks like you, Cas." Dean said quietly. "The black wings and everything."

"Leoniel." Cas said immediately, playing with the dark wings.

"Is that another...family member of yours?" Dean asked, realizing how awkward the question was. How do you politely ask if he's naming another angel after someone he'd killed?

"No." Cas said. "It was a name I'd liked for a long time. When I was younger, when I thought I'd be given fledglings of my own. Before I knew my status."

Dean again smiled. "I like that, Cas. A unique name." He indicted to Bobby in his arms with a small nod. "What about him?"

Cas pressed his lips together. "I still don't know."

Dean's smile was more of a smirk. "'Bobby' kinda stuck then, huh?"

Cas stubbornly shook his head. "No, Dean, I told you no."

Dean shrugged, chuckling. "I might as well try. Can the name at least get a 'b' in it so I can keep the nickname?"

Cas tried to think. A name with a 'b' in it, strong enough for an archangel? "Tobias." He finally decided.

"But I can still call him Bobby?" Dean's voice was youthful.

"Yes, Dean." Cas's voice was heavy with irritation.

"Alright. Let me take those little buggers so you can get some sleep, okay? I'll set something up for them."

Cas sleepily agreed. "Goodnight, Dean." It surprised him how quickly he fell back to sleep, already in REM by the time Dean came back to pick up the other two.

..

They hadn't expected for Eggy to hatch so soon, so the men of the bunker hadn't really prepared for the babies yet. Last night Dean had to pull every extra blanket he could find to make a soft little area for the fledglings to sleep temporarily, but they needed a crib and they needed some way to get Cas more energy.

So, today was shopping day, with Dean and Cas, as Kevin and Sam handled the babies at home.

Dean drove as Cas stared out the window at the buildings as they drove by.

"How's the arm feeling?" Dean asked, and Cas sighed lightly.

"It's fine, Dean."

Dean bit down, his jaw protruding. "You know what it feels like when it's infected, right? You'll let me know?"

Cas nodded again. "It feels fine."

Dean cleared his throat. "Okay. We'll take the stitches out when we get home, then. And clean everything else."

Cas was still looking out the window, he grunted in response. His eyes scanned over the buildings- a laundromat, a donut shop, a second hand clothing store...

"We'll go by friggin' Babies R Us or something." Dean said gruffly. "I don't know any of these other little places or whatever."

Cas frowned. "Okay. And I will get a job and pay you back as soon as I can."

Dean scoffed. "You don't have to do that, man. We're family now, remember?  _Mi casa es su casa_."

Cas frowned again. "I don't speak Spanish."

"You'll never change, Cas." Dean said with a smile and the slight huff of a laugh.

They made it to the gigantic baby superstore, Dean dug out a rumpled piece of paper from a pocket, making a lot of noise as Cas looked on with tired eyes.

"Okay, so, Sam put this together for me. At least they don't eat, so stuff is going to be cheaper. Like, no bottles or diapers or whatever." He unfolded the rumpled list, and read down it. Cas then took it and squinted at it.

"You sure we don't need baby vitamins or something like that?" Dean asked awkwardly as they sat in the car.

"I told you, the only thing they must consume is energy."

Dean cleared his throat. "Okay, Cas. Let's go inside, then."

"Overwhelmed" would be an understatement. Cas had absolutely no idea what to do. Dean never thought he'd have to explain so many things in his life.

"What is the purpose of this?" Cas asked, pointing to the picture of on a box.

"It's called a mobile." Dean explained, tipping something into the cart as Cas wheeled after him, Dean crossed something off the list.

"What is its  _function_ , Dean?" Cas asked again, more irritated than usual because he was so tired.

Dean shrugged. "Dude, I don't know. They like to look at it or something."

Cas wasted no time in pointing out another boxed item, a baby crawling in a white diaper.

"What is this." Cas asked, and Dean snorted into his hand.

"A diaper." Dean explained simply.

" _Dean_." Cas seemed frusterated. "When I ask what an item is, assume I wish to know its function as well."

Dean groaned and ran a hand down his face. It had been close to twenty minutes and they hadn't even gotten halfway through the list. "Babies...can't control their bodies like grown ups can. They wear that so food waste doesn't go everywhere, alright?"

Cas looked disgusted as he wrinkled his nose a little bit. Dean had go smile. "Not so glamorous, I get it."

Dean had only picked up one more item on the list, a pack of pacifiers, (before Cas could even ask, Dean just muttered 'for shutting them up or something' and dropped it in the cart) before Cas was picking up another item and scrutinizing it. "And this? What purpose does this serve?"

Dean rolled his eyes. "First of all, most of this stuff they don't need anyway. Some designers made cute stuff so parents would spend money on it." He looked at what Cas was holding.

"It's called a rattle." Dean explained. "It's a toy. They shake it around, it makes noise. I don't know, babies find it fun I guess."

Cas suddenly had his hand firmly on Dean's shoulder. "I want these 'rattles'." He said in a threatening voice, practically growling.

Dean chuckled. "You won't be saying that after hearing those beans shake around nonstop for the first day."

"They find it fun? All babies find the toy enjoyable?" He demanded, and Dean put his palms up to show innocence.

"I don't  _know_. Maybe?" Why was Cas acting so weird? It was just a toy.

Cas finally angrily took his hand off his shoulder and sighed roughly. "Please put four rattles in the cart."

Dean just did it to calm Cas down. He looked at the list- looks like they got everything they'd need except the crib and more clothes, they'd already bought the socks and underwear. Cas moodily put space between Dean and himself as he went to push the cart again.

Dean tucked the paper back into his pocket and didn't move out of Cas's way. He folded his arms.

"Why are you so pissed off all the sudden?" Dean demanded. "If you want them to have toys, fine. We'll get them toys. Why are you so angry about it?"

Cas shook his head. "You don't understand."

Dean strengthened his stance and kept his arms tightly crossed. "Try me."

"Angels don't  _have_  childhoods, Dean!" Cas seemed hurt as he bit this out. "From the minute we hatch...we are only prepped to become warriors. Our 'stories' at storytime were about fierce battles. Playtime was playing with wooden swords and learning combat. No one was kind to us. No one acted like they  _loved_ us!" He dragged the back of his hand over his eyes.

"Angels are rushed to grow up. We don't stay as 'useless' children for long. We don't  _get_  that luxury like humans do. Dad's special creations get  _rattles_  and  _mobiles_  and we got swords and gore and a childhood that barely marks a  _blip_  in our long lives!"

Dean locked his jaw. "You don't think I'd understand?!" He shot back. "Cas, I've had to be an adult since I was five years old! And it sucks when I gave up my own childhood so Sam could have one!"

The ex-angel was silent for a second. Both humans were pretty pissed off at each other.

Dean gave up on examining the onesies and just grabbed all the packs of clothes within reach; yanking off packs of blue clothes with sailboats and seagulls, green clothes with dinosaurs, dark blue with white and red rockets, yellow with teddy bears.

"C'mon, Cas. Let's just get the hell out of here." Dean said, dusting off his hands and leading the cart.

...

"So, I mean, you need more energy, right?" Dean asked as they waited for the woman to finish their checkout, endless monotone beeps as the blue lit number climbed higher and higher.

"Yes. I believe that would be helpful." Cas answered drowsily, rubbing his eye sleepily.

"Help me to the car with these, and we'll grab a few energy drinks and some coffee on the way home, okay?"

Dean carried most of the bags, since one of Cas's arms still hurt too much to sling bags on. The man was silent most of the way to the grocery store. Dean huffed out a sigh when they pulled in to park. He knew Cas was still shaken up, but he wished he'd just at least  _talk_  to him about it.

"Go find the Red Bulls, okay? Grab, like, four packs. You should be able to find it pretty easily." Dean indicated to the other direction. "I'm picking up some coffee beans. I'll be right over there if you need me."

At the register, Cas tried not to think about how much he was costing Dean as the numbers beeped higher and higher.

"You know, Dean...I admire your optimism. But I don't think a liquid consisting of mostly sugar and caffine will bring them back." Cas spoke up softly as Dean began to bag the items.

Dean looked over, confused. "I... _what_? What the hell are you talking about?"

"The energy drink claims it gives out wings. I believe it would not be that easy." He looked down at his feet and shuffled them a little like a nervous kid.

Dean's face pulled into a sad smile. "Oh, Cas."

...

"I promise you I'll repay for the supplies." The ex-angel spoke up after they'd been driving for a while, heading back home with a car full of supplies stuffed in the backseat and the boxed crib stuffed in the trunk.

"Cas, you say that again and I'm wringing your neck." Dean huffed out a sigh. "I want to help them. Bobby, Io, Red, Leo... I was there for everything too. They're my responsibility too now."

There was a small silence before Cas practically jumped out of his chair.

" _Dean_!" He insisted, pointing at the divider on the road, where a very, very handsome man was standing in shabby hobo clothes, holding a sign. He was tall and fit with curls of golden hair and hazel-golden eyes, flashing perfectly white-toothed smiles to the stalling cars, holding up a cardboard sign, written on it; 'HOMELESS HIPSTER: Will flash abs for food'.

"What an asshole," Dean laughed, as they watched he kissed an older woman on the cheek and got a few crumbled bills.

"Dean, that's my brother!" Cas said in astonishment, as if he hadn't heard Dean. "That is the angel of Friday, Calcifer!"

Dean barely had time to register before Cas had wrenched open the door and was sprinting out into the street. "Cas!" Dean barked out, scrambling to close the ajar door as cars honked and swerved out of the way.

" _Calcifer_!" Cas was yelling and waving his arms, sprinting down the divider and barreling into his brother. The beautiful bum looked confused at how he'd known his name, somewhat wrapping his arms around him too.

Realization crossed his face. " _Castiel_?"

Cas pulled away and tipped his head back to look into his face. "Calcifer, have you seen any of the other fallen? Any that are hurt or suffering or..." He couldn't bring himself to say 'dead'. He felt tears welling in his eyes as his tall, blonde brother looked down at him with a frown.

"Sorry, baby bro. I haven't seen any in this area, at least." He shrugged. "I've been trying to scrape by, taking money and getting food for myself. God, this being hungry thing sucks, doesn't it?"

"Cal-" He started, before firing of a sentence in a strange language.

"Seriously?" The man tipped his head to the side. "God. That's a relief. Four of them, you said?"

Dean pulled over in the red, sprinting to get to the two of them across the busy road. "Cas! You can't just  _do_  that!" He yelled at him from across the street.

"And who's that?" Calcifer nodded at Dean.

"His name is Dean." Cas answered promptly.

"Judging by the way he's so concerned about you, your next lover?" Calcifer waggled his light eyebrows.

Cas scowled and Calcifer threw his head back and began laughing. Cas crossed his arms and Calcifer clapped him on the back.

"You'll never change." Cas frowned.

"Never said I was going to." Calcifer grinned.

"Cas, a little warning next time?" Dean huffed as he jogged up to them. He nodded at Calcifer. "This is your brother?"

"That's right, bowlegs." Calcifer smirked. "My name's Calcifer of Friday. Angel of the intersection of Grand and 20th." He laughed.

"Wow, you're taking this well." Dean looked confused.

Calcifer pursed his lips. "Eh. Just trying to wait it out until someone's going to do something. And having a wicked good-looking vessel makes being human just a little bit easier." He winked. Dean was torn between hating him and liking him.

"Well, what were you planning on doing until then?" Dean asked, shoving his hands into his pockets.

Calcifer shrugged. "I dunno. Begging, eating. Sleeping on that thrown out matress out back in the alley." He looked a little weary all of the sudden. "Kinda just taking it day by day."

The look in Cas's deep blue eyes almost killed Dean. He'd seen that look before, when Sam was little and would beg to keep the little kittens he'd found.

"We don't need the spare bedroom for the fledglings. I'd rather share a room with them anyway, to keep them safe. Please." His begging eyes bored into Dean. "Dean, he's my brother."

Dean took a glance at Calcifer, who poked a dimple in his cheek in parody and flashed his brightest smile. He was still holding that ridiculous 'Homeless Hipster' sign. Damn, this guy was cheeky as hell.

He pulled him a few feet away. "Look. We can't afford to drag  _every_  fallen angel we find on the street back home with us." He hissed, his face very close to Cas's, his finger pointing and jabbing his chest lightly.

"He's my  _week brother_ ," Cas hissed back. "And he would know how to open his soul for the fledglings to consume his energy."

"I mean, dammit Cas, how well do you know this guy?" Dean asked, crossing his arms and lifting an eyebrow.

"I told you, he's my week brother!" Cas mirrored him and crossed his arms, stepping back and shifting his weight from foot to foot.

"Yeah, you said that, but I don't know what the hell that means!" Dean barked back. "I'm not letting a stranger into our house."

"He is not a stranger. And my babies need his energy, Dean. Please." His eyes were boring into him. "He deserves a home. He is-  _was_ \- a very good angel."

Dean spent a second thinking. He finally turned away, throwing his hands up in defeat. He couldn't believe he was doing this.

"Fine." He growled. "God dammit, Cas, fine."

He just hoped they didn't run into any more hobo angels anytime soon. That had been _embarrassingly_ easy for Cas.


	10. Chapter 10

_Close to one month in the past.._.

Chuck sipped on his large cup of Earl Grey, his fifth cup tonight. He was on a roll and he wasn't quite done with his unexpected writing streak of the day.

He'd got the first vision as he was taking a shower, singing the song "Free Falling" on the top of his lungs. And just as he was reaching for the bar of soap, this vision hit him particularly hard. His vision switched from a (somewhat) hairy, wet arm reaching for the bar of soap to a dark, stormy sky with purpled clouds, and he heard a yelling from a nearby church in the middle of nowhere.

Chuck swayed a little on his feet and steadied himself by planting one hand on the tiled wall as he rubbed the temples with his other hand.

"Whoa," He mumbled, rubbing his forehead at the unexpected throb. The last time his visions had been that clear were when Sam dragged himself and Adam into the pit. He wondered what in the hell would be that significant this time.

He shut off the water and scrambled out, just in time to be hit by another vision. This time, he saw blazing teardrop-shaped comets falling slowly through the purpling clouds, leaving white streaks in the sky as they plummeted toward Earth.

"The angels are falling." Chuck voiced in disbelief, squinting and slamming his hand around to find his glasses on the bathroom cabinet, running from the bathroom with the towel wrapped around his legs, screaming into the empty house "BY GOD! THE ANGELS ARE FALLING!"

Old Woman Kitty next door shook her head. "That nutjob." She muttered in a wavery old voice under her breath, continuing to crochet.

Chuck wrote as he'd never written before. He barely had time to smooth over his little ginger cat's fur as she headbutted him once again, begging for attention. Chuck's hands flew across the keyboard.

He was getting more information that he ever thought imaginable. He usually only saw the happenings of good ol' Sam and Dean, but this time, he was seeing everything.

He saw Metatron when he sliced the angel Castiel's neck and his white grace curled into the vial like mist. He watched as, with the tap of a forehead, the Scribe sent Castiel to be splayed out on the earth, used and tossed away like garbage. He watched as Metatron harnessed thousands of graces from the spell, white mists flowing up as the Scribe stood in the center, the garden of heaven, graces in lines rushing towards him from all directions like a flower blooming in reverse.

The wayward angel had his arms spread over his head, an elated smile on his face as grace rocketed into him from every direction, filling him with the power of thousands of angels. The Scribe thought about how stupid Castiel had been for trying to use the Leviathans in the same way. Purgatory's creatures were filthy and their energy unpredictable. But heaven's angels...their energy was pure and clean, and as it filled Metatron to the brim, he felt his power expand to something he hadn't imagined.

The angel smiled and finally lowered his arms, the very last streak of white had plunged into his body. He took a few confident, ambling steps, and he looked into the lake in the garden, the window to look over Earth.

Metratron saw through the window that was like a lake, each detail clear as he saw all the angels fall as the humans rushed about like frightened ants.

"Hello, Earth." Metatron smirked. "I'm not sure we've met. My name is Metatron. And I am your new God."

Chuck had to pause, breathing hard, right when his finger hit the little 'd' on the keyboard. The line blinked back at him, willing him to write on. Chuck tried hard to steady his breathing, he hadn't even realized he'd been writing. His little orange cat headbutted his shaking wrist and dragged his body underneath with a little purr, and Chuck finally came to his senses and petted the soft ginger fur.

"Shit, Mr. Mittens." Chuck spoke up, readjusting his glasses with his another hand as he looked at his messy desk, drained teacups everywhere, papers strewn, crumbs from a bag of chips he scarfed down for lunch. "We're in a whole lot of trouble now."

* * *

Dean, Cas and Sam were in Cas's bedroom, the brothers were working to try and set up the crib as Cas sat on the bed with the four children sleeping all around him. He sipped on some freshly brewed coffee, put down the cup and set up a baby in his lap, Io this time, and took a soft-bristled brush and worked through the downy feathers, humming softly to the olive-skinned baby as she began to pull from his energy supply, Cas yawned and took another sip of coffee.

Dean felt it would have been a peaceful moment- if it wasn't for that damn racket going on outside.

" It's Fri- _day_ , Friiii- _dayyy_ , gottagit down on Frrrrri- _dayyy_ , everybody's lookin' forward to- _the_ -week- _end_..." Calcifer was singing at the top of his lungs, glopping shampoo into his hair until his blonde hair was completely consumed by an afro of pure white suds. He'd been in the shower cleaning off for close to fifteen minutes now.

Dean groaned as he fit in another wooden leg. " _Caaas_. I'm regretting this." He said through gritted teeth.

Cas shrugged tiredly. "He's a lot like Garth. He'll grow on you." He pulled the comb through the soft silvery wings one more time before reaching for the next tiny angel.

" Pardyin' pardyin',  _YEAH_!, pardyin' pardyin',  _YEAH_! Fun, _fun_ ,fun, _fun_ \- "

"Okay, that's it!" Dean huffed in irritation, getting up and storming from the room.

"CAL!" Dean pounded on the bathroom door.

Finally, the singing (or bellowing) stopped. Sam in the bedroom let out a sigh of relief.

" _What_?!" Calcifer yelled over the running water.

"Calcifer I swear to fucking God if you don't shut up I will come in there and  _make_  you." Dean growled through the door.

There was a silence. "Dean, man, if you wanted shower sex with me you could have just  _asked_." He began laughing and choking on the water.

Dean frowned. "You are  _this_  close to being thrown back on the street, Cal! I swear!"

Dean was happy when the singing finally stopped. In the silence, his phone began trilling in his back pocket. He picked it up answered.

"Hello?" He asked, finally turning away from the bathroom door to answer his phone.

The phone crackled for a little, and the voice sounded faraway. "...Dean? H-...lo? Is this Dean?"

"Yes? Hello?" Dean recognized that voice. " _Chuck_?"

"Dean, thank God you picked up!" Chuck's voice sounded relieved through the phone. " I've been trying to call you but my phone lines have been down for a while...and I haven't had time to go out to a payphone out of town because..well, I've sort of been housebound.."

"Okay, Chuck. Slow down. What's going on?"

Chuck nervously sighed and spoke up again. "Shit, Dean, I saw everything!" He sounded overly concerned at usual. "How's Sam? And Cas? Shit, how are you?"

Dean had to smile. It was nice that someone out there, even though he'd only met him once, caring about him and his family.

"Uh, we're doing okay." Dean ran a hand through his hair. "What's up, man? Why'd you call?"

"Well, as I said, I've been housebond a little...I'm sort of running a kind of..uh, Angel Day Care if you will." Chuck answered nervously.

"You...what?" Dean said in disbelief.

"Well, I got around fifteen people here, maybe twenty, and I just saw you guys pick up Calcifer a little while ago, so.." Chuck scratched the back of his head of unruly hair as he heard a porceline crash in the kitchen, followed by a timid 'Mr. Chuck?'

Dean laughed a little. "I kinda keep forgetting you have a window into our lives. It's a little creepy, to be honest."

"I know, I know. Sorry. Just wondering if you'd like to bring him over later, you've already got your hands full with the little ones, huh?"

Dean smiled. "Yeah, I guess. Chuck, you big teddy bear, taking 'em all in like that."

Chuck blushed a little and cleared his throat. "Well, uhm, yes. You can drive him over whenever you'd like. And Dean, there's one more reason I'm calling.."

Dean brought his eyebrows together. From the way it sounded, the guy was even more nervous than usual.

"Uh..the angels here..they're acting a little, hm, I guess  _weird_  toward me." Chuck had obviously cupped the phone to his mouth, his voice was lower.

"Weird like..how?" Dean saw Sam raise his eyebrows at him and he mouthed 'hold on'.

"Well," Chuck started, pressing his lips together. "They act like they're hiding something from me, maybe. Like, I'll walk into a room an they'll just stop talking." He chuckled nervously before he said the next thing. "One of them called me Dad and then just clammed up like he'd just leaked information about a WMD or something."

Dean felt the blood drain from his face. And  _angel_  had called him  _Dad_?

"I'm sure it's nothing. They're all pretty disoriented right now, I guess." Dean replied, and he heard a relieved sigh.

"Thanks, Dean. And if you ever need more food for those little babies of yours, I've got twenty or so fully charged batteries." Chuck laughed half-heartedly and made his way to his kitchen, where three newly human angels were staring at a broken plate like guilty little kids, not knowing the first thing about how to clean up.

"Alright. We'll stop by later." Dean once again mouthed at Sam to hold on.

"Goodbye, Dean. Stay safe." Chuck said kindly. Dean decided that he really liked this guy.

"Bye, Chuck." Dean ended the call and stared at his phone screen. "Cas?"

The dark-haired man looked up sleepily. "Yes, Dean?"

"Last time you checked...Chuck..isn't  _God_ , right?" Dean felt dumb right after he said it. Of course the kind, somewhat timid little five-foot-eight writer wasn't _God of all Heaven and Earth._

"I don't believe so." Cas answered. "The amulet didn't signify it."

Dean smiled nervously. "Okay. At least that's good."

Cas shook his head. "It's a slim chance, but it could be possible." He touched Bobby's eagle brown wings with the comb, and they fluttered slightly before flattening again.

" _What_?" Sam and Dean said at the same time.

"I have reason to believe God is not hiding." Cas confessed. "The amulet would only glow hot in the presence of God's grace. But I believe God may not be in possession of his grace currently. My most reasonable explaination was that God, as an angel himself, fell some time ago."

Sam dropped the two pieces of white wood he was fiddling with and set his full attention on Cas. "You think.  _God. Fell?"_

"It seems like the only explaination. He's been gone for so long." Cas look sad as he gently stroked Bobby's light brown hair, frowning. The tiny angel squirmed and made little noises, nuzzling closer to the ex-angel.

Dean was frozen in place with disbelief. "So you're saying that  _God_  could potentially not even  _know_  he's friggin'  _God_?"

Cas hesistated for a second before answering, wetting his lips with a sweep of his tongue. "Potentially."

"Well, shit." Dean ran his hands through his hair. He was interrupted from saying more as the door banged open behind him. Calcifer was grinning, wearing nothing but a pair of Sam's plaid boxers that were quite baggy on him. His blonde hair fell in wet curls.

"Oookay," Calcifer grinned and leaned on the door. "I downed two Red Bulls, and I'm feeling good. Let's see those little winged rugrats."

He came forward, and even in his proximity the little angels began to stir and awaken from their naps. "And Cassie said there was an archangel?"

"Yes," Cas said, nodding to Bobby in his arms.

"Alright. Let me take a little peek." Calcifer gently took the baby from Cas, who seemed overjoyed at the new energy source, letting out tiny coos. Calcifer sat down on the bed and brought the child up to his chest, examining the wings and the long lines of brown feather down that went all the way down his small, pale back.

"My brother spent a lot of time with Gabriel when we were younger." Cas spoke up, and Calcifer chuckled.

"Oh yeah." The angel of Friday spoke up. "Me and Gabe were your regular peas in a pod."

Dean laughed but rolled his eyes. "Well. That clears some stuff up." Sam huffed out a laugh.

Calcifer gently ran a finger down the line of down. "Yeah. He's getting six wings. Eventually." He confirmed, and Cas nodded, looking at Bobby with concern.

"He will have them come in two seperate times?" Cas aked nervously. "Like Gabriel?"

"I'm thinking that's what's going to happen." Calcifer explained, running his finger down the soft brown line once more. "I'm feeling a little bit of a swelling. His second set, the third and fourth wings, must be starting to grow right now, and will come in pretty soon. Within the year. The third set, his fifth and sixth wings, might take a little longer."

Cas nodded, he couldn't stop himself from gently running his hand over the fledgling's light brown hairs. "This is going to hurt him?"

Calcifer frowned. "Yeah. Sorry, baby bro. It's just part of being an archangel." He shrugged. "And the rest are seraphs? This li'l guy wasn't so hungry anyway. Let me see the baby girl."

Dean couldn't explain the strange feeling of almost jealousy as he watched Cas's brother handling the fledglings. That should be  _him_. No, it was  _protectiveness_ , that was it. Not like he was  _jealous_  that someone else was handling Cas's kids. Pffft. No way.

Calcifer looked happy as Io easily snuggled into him, her cheek squished to his shoulder.

"She's so pretty, huh? And her nickname's Io?"

Cas frowned. "Her name is  _Iofiel_."

"Well, I haven't heard her be called anything else." Calcifer laughed. "The curse of the nicknames getting to you, Cassie?"

Cas frowned again at his brother's cockiness. "And my name is  _Castiel_."

"Well, I like Io better. It's like one of Jupiter's moons, right? You know, that might be a good sign. Jupiter was the main God in Greek mythology, and it might mean she's going to be a good follower of ol' Daddy-o. Kinda like a moon."

Cas finally smiled a little. "I didn't think of it like that before."

"Well, glad I pointed it out, then." Calcifer grinned at Cas and petted the tiny silvery wings.

Dean felt that strange lick of jealousy again and cleared his throat. "Well, Cal, it was nice that you could help us out, but we've got somewhere else for you to go after you're done feeding the kids. A friend named Chuck is taking in angels, he offered to give you a place to stay."

"What? You don't like my singing?" Calcifer began to laugh light-heartedly, his hazel-golden eyes crinkling up at the corners. Dean decided maybe he wasn't that bad of a guy. Still, he was beyond relieved that Chuck offered to take the guy in.

...

"Well, here's where you're crashing for now." Dean shut off the Impala and showed Calcifer Chuck's front porch with a sweep of his hand. "Just don't be too much of an asshole to him, kay? He's a cool guy."

Calcifer laughed. "I'll try."

Dean realized the best option to not suck Cas dry was to stop by here every so often to get the babies fed good and proper. Calcifer made a tipping his cap kind of motion and climbed out of the car. "The shower sex offer is still open, darling." He winked.

Dean snorted. " _Bye_ , Cal." He was annoying as hell. But maybe not  _so_  bad.

The tall ex-angel gave Dean a little half-wave as the Impala rumbled away. He rung the doorbell, and Chuck answered the door with a weary smile. Tiny bloodstains were on his shirt, he was just helping a clumsy angel put bandaids on his hands after he'd sliced a few fingers attempting to cook.

"Hi. You must be Calcifer. Nice to meet you." He smiled a little, wiped some blood off his palm on his pants and extended his hand. "I'm Chuck. Come on in. It's a little humble, but I hope you'll like it." He flashed a tiny smile.

Calcifer didn't respond. His jaw had dropped and his mouth was hanging slightly open, his face had drained of blood and had gone pale.

"Cal? Are you feeling alright?" Chuck asked, concerned. Maybe seeing the blood had made him feel faint. Chuck scolded himself for not considering maybe he'd be squeamish.

"D-D..." Calcifer, the typical smooth talker, full on stuttered.

Chuck's eyebrows drew together. "You look faint. Do you need some water?"

" _Dad_?" Calcifer finally was able to get his lips to form a comprehensible word.


	11. Chapter 11

Dean and Sam stood back to admire their handiwork. The white crib was perfectly assembled, and looked like it would be perfect for the quadruplets. Dean held up a hand for Sam to high five, but Sam snorted and went to get some blankets instead.

"Rude." Dean chuckled after him, lowering his hand. He looked over to the bed and saw that Cas had fallen asleep again, despite having just downed a cup of coffee. Sam was plucking the babies around him one-by-one to put in the crib, but Cas was curled around the smallest one with the black wings, Leoniel. The baby was wearing a light blue footsie with little clouds on it, his dark and downy wings sprouting from the slits Dean had gone through every pair of clothing and made. He was laying on Cas's tummy, and at first glance it almost could look like the black wings were from Cas.

Dean felt a twinge of guilt as he saw Cas's rockily sleeping face; he knew he was going to get Cas's wings back, no matter what it took.

His phone rang for the second time that day.

"Hello?" He stepped out of the room to answer it, so that he wouldn't have to disturb Cas.

He heard crackles and a very familiar voice. "Is this thing working? Hello, Dean?"

"Calcifer? What in the hell-" Why did the smooth-talking angel suddenly seem panicked?

"Dean! I-me and and the other angels don't know what to do, I mean, Chuck..I think he fainted or something, like he fell backwards and hit his head and he's not responding when we're touching him or..shit, I mean, how easily can humans die again?"

Dean gripped the phone tightly. "Cal. Listen. Feel under his nose for air flow. If he's breathing, that means he just passed out."

A second went by when Dean had no idea if his friend was alive or dead. Dean crossed his fingers, even though he knew it was dumb to believe in luck, and muttered under his breath "C'mon, Chuck. Not you too."

Finally, shuffling noises came on and Calcifer was speaking into the phone once again. "Yeah, he's breathing."

Dean let out a sigh of relief. "Get him some water for when he comes to. He might have been overworking himself and just got exhausted."

"Uhm...I don't think that's why he fainted, babe." Calcifer pursed his lips with worry.

"First of all, never call me 'babe' ever again." Dean shot out. He could see exactly how Calcifer acted like Gabriel. "And second of all, why'd he faint then?"

"Uh...see, Chuck is definitely my dad." Calcifer answered, his voice tight like a wire.

"You're saying  _Chuck_  is  _God_?" Dean asked, gripping the phone so tightly he was surprised he wasn't crushing it.

"Pretty sure. I talked to all the other angels here and they're pretty sure too." Calcifer pressed his lips together at looked at Chuck, the man had a pale face and was splayed out like a starfish on the floor, while four or five angels gently touched his cheeks or rolled his shoulders. "Mr. Chuck? Mr. Chuck, are you alright sir?"

"Hang on. We're coming over." Dean said gruffly before snapping the phone shut.

...

Chuck was waiting for them at his desk, and Sam, Dean and Kevin where escorted into the room by a few other fallen angels.

Chuck looked a little worse for wear. He had an icepack pressed to his forehead and his eyes were shut, and angels were milling in and out of the room, trying to tend to him. He already had an old blanket over his shoulders, no doubt given to him by an angel.

One woman came in and gently touched his back, handing him a glass of water. "Mr. Chuck?"

Chuck finally opened his exhausted eyes and took the glass.

"Thank you, dear." He said wearily, placing the water to the side just as a man came in and did the same thing, gently touching his shoulder and extending his hand to drop a few pain relievers into Chuck's palm. "Here, Mr. Chuck."

"Thank you, Seraphiel." He sighed and popped the pills into his mouth, taking a few gulps of water and shutting his eyes again. The three men came into the room, and Chuck peeped open his eyes behind those thick frames once again.

"I don't know if I should bow down or sit down." Dean laughed nervously. Chuck propped his head up with palm cradling his cheek.

"Shut up, Dean." He moaned, licking his parched lips and pressing the icepack a little harder to the lump on his head. Dean realized that both God and Death personally have told him that phrase. Then he realized that his life was really freaking weird.

The three of them sat down. Chuck frowned a little and sighed.

"So, I guess... you're the guy then, huh?" Sam cleared his throat and spoke up.

Chuck took off his glasses and rubbed his eyes, running his hand through his unruly brown hair. "That's what all these angels are saying."

"So you don't believe it?" Kevin was the one who spoke up this time.

Chuck pinched the bridge of his nose. "I'm a one hundred and ten pound man who lives at home alone with his cat and writes stupid-" His eyes flicked from Sam to Dean's face, and in his usual nervous manner he muttered "no offense"..

The brothers shrugged and mumbled "None taken."

"..Stupid books about monster hunting that only a few people even read.." He continued. "I don't even have a  _girlfriend_."

"So that's a no, then?" Dean said again.

"I guess not." Chuck said quietly. "I mean, I was told I was a prophet."

Dean indicated to Kevin, who waved meekly.

"Well, obviously you guys are both alive. And there's supposed to be only one prophet at a time." Sam pointed out.

Chuck rattled out a sigh. "I know, I know. That doesn't add up. And if all these angels really are my..children..." He got a little pale in the face, and an angel who had been in the room rushed to his side and put a hand on his shoulder. "Are you alright, sir?"

"I'm okay. Thank you." Chuck reached for his glass of water and took another sip. A silence fell on the four men.

"...I mean, aren't you kinda stoked?" Dean asked.

Chuck met him with a small glare. "Dean, no, I am not  _stoked_."

He ran a hand through his greasy hair. "I'm the only guy who can fix all of this, apparently, and I don't know where to even start. I have to save my children, and..."

He pressed his lips together. "Oh, hell. My children." He buried his face in his palms.

Sam, like the huge teddy bear he was, reached out and rubbed his scrawny shoulder. "Hey, it's okay. We're gonna help you any way we can, alright?"

Chuck rubbed his cheeks and finally just peeked his eyes out over his hands. "Really?" He asked timidly.

"Of course." Sam flashed a tiny smile at him. "You've helped us out before."

"It has nothing to do with the fact that I might be God?" Chuck asked, an easy smile finally pulling onto his face.

"You know, maybe." Sam joked, and Chuck finally lowered his hands completely from his face.

"I guess you can start by telling me everything you know about Metatron." Chuck said, shuffling a few papers around the desk and digging around for a pen. "If I really am God and he's my kid, he  _really_  needs a spanking and a time-out." The three of them finally smiled a little at that.

"Wait, so what do know about him?" Sam asked.

Chuck shrugged. "It was weird. I finally had a vision that wasn't of you two. I saw Metatron in heaven, he was stealing all the graces of all the angels. And he claimed  _he_  was God."

Dean chuckled. "Trying to steal  _our Chuck's_  title?"

Chuck's cheeks reddened. "Please. I don't want a title."

Kevin cleared his throat and spoke up. "I wonder why you've been seeing into their lives only. I mean, I've never had visions or anything."

Chuck shrugged the blanket closer over his shoulders. "Kevin, I really don't know." He shrugged. "Maybe it's because of their involvement with my kids. No other humans have that much angelic intervention."

Sam had to smile a little bit. It seemed like Chuck might be starting to get a little used to the idea that the angels he'd been fathering and taking care of since the Fall really were his kids. But all the other stuff he still seemed reluctant to even consider.

"Well, congrats." Dean smirked. "It's 7 billion boys and girls and a couple thousand angels."

Chuck smile half-heartedly back. "And you didn't even have the consideration to throw me a baby shower."

"There's the Chuck we know." Sam smiled at him. He hated seeing the little guy in such distress. The three of them felt like maybe he wouldn't be that bad of a father, despite being single since high school without any action for the same amount of time.

"So, can I be the first person to get an autographed Bible?" Dean teased.

Chuck wrapped the blanket tighter around his shoulders. "You know I didn't write that stuff. I would at least have had more monster hunting in it." He finally smiled just a little.

The three of them finally stood up. "Well, it looks like you're being taken pretty good care of here." Sam said, and Chuck nodded.

"Yes, yes. They're all dears. I'm sure I'll be fine here, you take care of those little angels and I'll watch over these fallen ones, okay? And if you find any more, you'll know just where to send 'em." Chuck stood up, all five foot eight of him, the blanket still around his shoulders like a little kid huddling up in the cold.

Sam put a hand on his shoulder. "I'm going to try and do anything I can to locate your grace so you can get it- and your memories- back."

"Thanks, Sam. I hope we can find it." Chuck let the angel in the room wrap his arm around Chuck's shoulder and lead him gently into the next room. "Maybe once I remember I can start to fix all of this."

...

The car ride on the way back was mostly silent with the three of them.

"Well," Sam spoke up, clearing his throat. "I guess we found him."

Dean shrugged. "You know, I thought it be a lot more...I don't know,  _grand_  I guess? Like he'd be able to just step in and solve all of our problems in a few minutes."

Sam sighed. "Yeah. I guess I thought it would be like that too. Poor Chuck. I bet a lot of people will be expecting the same thing from him."

Dean nodded. "I mean, the guy didn't even know he was friggin' God. It sucks that was just slammed on him like that."

"At least those angels are going to be taking good care of him." Sam dug around his pocket as his phone began to trill.

"Hello? Chuck, are you okay?"

Sam only heard undistinguishable sobbing from the other line.

They found themselves at God's house once more.

Chuck buried his face in a tissue and blew. A fallen angel standing nearby handed him another tissue and he took it and wiped his eyes. "Thank you, honey." He sniffled.

"I just thought there was going to be someone out there who would just  _know_  what to do, you know?" Chuck sniffled. Instead of sitting behind a desk and trying to keep it together, he was now on the floor with his back resting on the couch, a cup of steaming tea in his hands and a blanket on his shoulders.

"I'm the worst dad  _e-e-v-errr-rr."_  Chuck sobbed, placing the tea to the side and burying his face in his palms.

"I mean, not the  _worst_  dad ever." Sam tried his best to console him, but Chuck just sobbed even harder.

"The world  _needs_  me, Sam!" Chucked choked out. "I'll I've been doing is sitting on my ass my whole life and writing books!"

Kevin looked extremely uncomfortable as the three Men of Letters sat on the rug in the living room and watched as God cried his eyes out.

Dean cleared his throat. "Hey, I mean, you probably saved some people with your books, like they learned about ghosts and werewolves and things like that." He tried his best to make him feel a little bit better.

"But  _Dean_!" Chuck insisted. "I let my scribe hurt my babies...oh, nono, Jesus, I don't know what I'm supposed to  _do-o-o!"_  He hid his face in a blanket and the angel next to him wrapped his arms around him as his shoulders shook up and down.

Dean was not very good at comforting people. Kevin wasn't quite sure what to do with this person he just met, and Sam was struggling to comfort the man who was clearly in a crisis.

"Hey, I mean, you didn't know." Dean said, and Chuck sobbed even harder.

"That doesn't make it okay!" Chuck's scruffy face finally peeked out from the blanket, the fabric hooding around his head, as the she-angel who had her arms around his shoulders gave him a kiss on the cheek. "What the hell am I supposed to do? I didn't even get confirmed! I haven't been to church in fifteen years!"

Chuck finally crawled to his feet and grabbed his teacup. "The least I can do is start making dinner." He sniffled, shuffling his way toward the kitchen. "Everybody's probably pretty hungry."

"Hey, you're pretty shaken up right now." Sam sprung up and chased after him. "Hold on. Do you need any help?"

Chuck shook his head. "It's fine, Sam. I'd like something to take my mind off of all of this."

Sam shrugged. "Okay. Sure you don't need us to..uh..." How would he put into polite words _"sit there awkwardly as we watch you cry, spewing out comforts that really don't help at all?"_

"It's okay." Chuck sniffled. "At least they tell me that I make a mean chili."

The Winchesters and Kevin only stayed for a few more minutes, watching as Chuck seemed to have calmed down, working in the kitchen to make the large pot of chili for all the ex-angel residents.

It was somewhat endearing. Chuck was still wrapped up in that damn blanket, the ragged edges swaying around his hairy calves, his disheveled tuft of semi-wavy brown hair topping the blanket, the rest of his body concealed by the quilt. The fallen angels milled about.

Chuck helped them, explaining how to open the can of beans as four angels watched with unbreakable concentration. He tried to make sure the angels were very careful as they chopped onions or skinned potatoes. The one chopping onions started crying and cursing human emotions and that onions were not sentient and being human was frustrating, and Chuck kindly explained to him that onions just make eyes water.

It was sweet when they came together and helped pour things into the large kettle. They always touched Chuck on the shoulder or back as they added an ingredient, he'd softly mutter a thank you and stir the pot, as angel milled about and brought him salt or peppers or other seasonings. It smelled amazing.

"Think you'll be okay here, Chuck?" Sam asked after they'd been waiting in the kitchen without a word from the man in minutes. He seemed like he would be okay- he was surrounded by his family, after all.

Chuck sighed, shaking some more chili flakes into the kettle. "I think so, Sam. It's just going to take a little while to adjust." The brothers nodded, and Chuck spoke up again.

"..But, you two will come and visit me, right?" He asked timidly. "I know this sounds stupid. But I can't do this on my own."

"It's not stupid. You did just find out you're friggin' God." Dean chuckled.

Chuck groaned. "Ugh. Don't remind me." He stirred his chili a little more.

"See you later, Chuck." They finally waved and set back home for the second time.

Chuck had plenty to do to keep him busy around the house. He fed the ex-angels, many if them wanting seconds of the chili, opened up the showers and bathed the ones who still hadn't learned how, and finally re-made their sleeping arrangements. Too many of them tossed and turned from the nightmares, and some even wet the beds. It was like taking care of twenty three-year-olds in adult bodies.

Chuck had spent a fortune to line his spare rooms wall to wall with new mattresses. But when he was fast asleep after a tiring day, most of the angels snuck into his room and slept on the floor in his room, or even on the bed with him if they were lucky enough.

And maybe Chuck wouldn't be that bad of a God. But they had to find out how to get him his grace back, before Metatron really did steal the Earth away from him for good.


	12. Chapter 12

Dean nudged Cas's shoulder, which earned him a groggy moan and a turn over from the exhausted new dad. He'd accidentally fallen asleep on Dean's bed again after they'd been talking for a while last night. The strangest part was how normal it felt now. 

"C'mon, Cas. It's almost eleven in the morning. Time to rise and shine." Dean nudged his shoulder again. "I promised I'd clean those cuts today, remember?" This earned an even more annoyed groan, and Dean laughed.

"C'mon, lazy. And I can finally show you have to shower properly today too."

Cas was frowning as he looked down at the pinkish-red stripe that stretched vertically down his forearm. It had barely healed, the black stitches emerging from his skin creeped him out a little. Anything black emerging from his skin since the Leviathan incident creeped him out. Good thing Dean was taking them out.

"It takes so long," Cas spoke up sadly.

"What?" Dean asked, not breaking his concentration as he snipped at the next stitch and pulled it out. It hurt, but in a itchy relieving kind of way.

"Healing." Cas answered, feeling the slice from the mirror over his ribcage throb as well. His back pained him less every day, but it was still a minor annoyance.

"You're preaching to the quire." Dean told him, smiling just a little and shaking his head as he pulled the next stitch out. Boy, did he know about healing. He'd probably gotten more nicks and cuts than any other human being out there.

"I am only talking to you. And I didn't think I was preaching." Cas cocked his head to the side. "Oh. Metaphor."

Dean looked sadly at him. "I'm going to miss that when you learn all the metaphors, Cas."

The ex-angel smiled sadly back. He'd said  _when_. He wondered how long Dean believed he'd be human for. Not like he could read his mind to find out anymore.

Dean pulled the last stitch out. The line was strange-looking. Cas was not used to seeing the aftermath of an injury, he usually healed things away. Cas hissed as Dean dabbed a cotton ball of hydrogen peroxide on it and it fizzled white.

"I just gotta clean it. Sorry." Dean wiped away the fizz and gently pressed pieces of gauze onto the line, winding around and around with brown ace bandage, holding the gauze in place.

"Be gentle with this arm, okay? No heavy lifting or anything. We don't want it to tear back up." Dean instructed him, patting his wrist gently.

"Will it leave a scar?" Cas asked, but felt stupid right when the phrase had left his mouth. Of course it was going to scar.

Dean's peridot eyes were sad as they flicked up and met Cas's eyes once again. "Yeah, it'll scar." His voice was soft.

"Your rib injury? Let's see that." Dean cleared his throat and changed the subject. Cas peeled off the bandages and let Dean deal with it. He preferred not to look at more stitches.

"I should get to the quadruplets soon." Cas spoke up, his voice almost misty. "They're going to be getting hungry again."

Dean pressed his lips together. "I've been meaning to ask about that, Cas. Why can't me or Sam or Kev help out with that? The whole energy thing?"

"Humans do not have the same harness over their own souls like angels do. Well, former angels." Cas started to explain, he was talking with a soft voice so that he wouldn't run out of breath. He tried to take shallow breaths so his ribcage wouldn't move too much when Dean was working on it.

"We knew our own grace, or soul substance, very well. We knew how to manipulate it to possess people. We knew how to give out our energy to heal or fly. So now, with human-sized souls...it is harder to do, but we still know our own souls. Humans do not." Cas continued to explain. He was thinking about Bobby, Io, Red and Leo again. He figured he would probably always have them in the back of his mind.

"Couldn't you teach us?" Dean asked, snipping and tugging, snipping and tugging.

"No." Cas explained. "Humans are blind to their own souls. They always have been. It takes a very long time for human ghosts to learn how to possess and manipulate, and they are purely made from soul substance. To learn in a  _body..._ it would take longer than triple a human's life span."

Dean frowned a little. "Oh. I guess that's too bad then, huh?" He wished he could help, he felt bad that Cas was so worn out all the time now.

Dean finally finished with his ribs but didn't dress it. "Shoot. I told you I was going to teach you how to shower today, right?"

Cas nodded. "Oh. Well, yes." He didn't want to admit to Dean, but he was nervous about showering. The porcelain floor was too smooth, and what if he slipped? And the water from a shower was so loud, from what he'd observed. Would that shooting water hurt? And what if he messed up with which bottles he was supposed to use? He would not be able to ask Dean about the bottles because he would be naked and it would be indecent for someone to see him naked.

Dean pressed his lips together in thought. "Well, I don't want to have to redo all that. And the cuts might sting if it has water pressure on it. I'll just run a bath." He decided, and indicated for Cas to hop up off the edge of the tub so he could reach the knobs.

"Last time though, okay? Sam laughed his ass off at me last time I told him I gave you a bath." Dean chuckled and the loud rush of water filled the bathroom.

Cas slipped on some swim trunks and Dean taught Cas about the bottles as he made sure to really scrub the shampoo deep into his hair to get him all clean.

Dean showed him the first bottle, saying that this one, called 'shampoo', was to wash your hair. He showed Cas a bar of soap and said it was for your body, and how to rub it on your skin until bubbles formed.

Dean told him to make sure to wash his armpits, chest and 'nether regions' especially with the soap. Cas did not know what a 'nether regions' was, but he felt Dean would not appreciate him asking. So he just mentally made a note to clean everywhere well.

Cas noticed Dean hadn't told him about the other bottle, so Cas asked about that. Dean told him that the other bottle 'Samantha' used only, because he had girl hair and this bottle was called 'conditioner.'

"Dean, what if I mix them up? I don't want girl hair." Cas said, genuinely concerned, as he examined the bottle with a critical eye, trying to commit to memory that 'conditioner' was for Sam's use only.

Dean laughed for a long time after that.

Cas was glad he didn't shower because even just pouring water gently over the healing skin over his ribs stung, and he liked that a bath was quiet and did not have loud, rushing water and that he got to sit down and and didn't have to be afraid of slipping. And he was glad that he made Dean laugh.

Cas wasn't angry like the first time he'd berated Dean for treating him like a child. He realized Dean really was only trying to help him. He was very kind about all of it. Cas knew he would be kind with his fledglings, and that made him happy too.

...

"Good morning, Chuck." Cas said happily, when they'd gone up to the man's door to drop by and get the fledglings fed well today on their way to the store. It had been almost a week since they last saw him, when he'd been a weepy mess.

Sam, Dean and Kevin hadn't told Cas about Chuck yet. Sam and Dean agreed that they would both sit down with him and explain, after Chuck began to adjust a little better. No doubt Cas, who spent such a long time searching, would not give Chuck time to adjust like they were doing now and would probably riddle him with question after question. Chuck needed some calm right now.

Baby Leo was strapped to Cas's chest in what used to be Eggy's baby carrier. Chuck smiled at Cas and then his eyes flicked down to the towheaded baby's round face. Leo's blue eyes were widened as he looked at Chuck with wonder, tiny pink lips hanging slightly ajar.

"Oh, isn't he a sweet little thing!" Chuck said happily, poking the tiny fat cheeks and laughing at the surprised look on the little one's face. "Please, come in." He opened the door all the way and escorted them to the living room, where four angels had been sitting and talking amongst each other, empty cups of coffee on the dining room table.

"How have you been, Chuck?" Sam asked when he saw that his friend was back on his feet and not a crying, gloomy mess like the last time they'd seen him.

Chuck nodded. "Good, Sam. I got two more angels since I last saw you guys." He reached out and pet a little ginger cat climbing on his couch, she arched her back and rasped out a purr.

"Out front looks great." Sam pointed out. "I didn't notice all those flowers before."

Cas grinned and rubbed the little orange cat's chin, and she pinched her eyes shut and purred louder. "That's because the flowers weren't here before. My angels, well...they like to garden." Chuck said with a tiny smile.

"Well, that's one way to get free home improvement." Sam laughed.

Chuck rubbed his forehead, looking a little overwhelmed. "You haven't even seen the backyard yet. If there's such things as _over_ gardening that's definitely it. But if it keeps them happy, then I'll be happy." He smiled serenely and kept scratching the tiny cat's tiny white chin.

"How's the..uh..identity crisis?" Dean asked, and Chuck snorted out a laugh.

"I love that you  _would_  be the one to call it that," He was still chuckling. "Well, to be honest, not that much better. I mean, I've come to terms with  _these_  angels all being my kids. They sure act like it. It's just a little hard to imagine it's not just fifteen but fifteen hundred that are all mine." Chuck scratched the back of his head. "Not to mention all the humans..and all the.. _other stuff._.I guess I'm not doing that well. I'm getting there, slowly. I hope."

Dean shoved his hands in his pockets and smiled. "You know, I don't mind God being a five-foot-eight scruffy little writer who lived at home with his cat. It's nicer than the big, booming-voice white-mile-long beard guy that I always imagined."

"That's a weird image." Chuck laughed. "I don't think I'd like that guy either."

Dean shrugged. "Eh. It's how the movies always show him. Or, well, I mean you."

Chuck blushed very red at this. "Please. Dean, I don't need reminding." He said nervously.

"Sorry," Dean clapped him on the back. "I keep forgetting you're not as stoked about this as I am."

"Well, enough about me." Chuck cleared his throat. "How are the little ones at your house?"

"It's good, Chuck." Dean finally smiled but didn't realize he was. "They were unexpected, of course. But not unwanted. Never unwanted. I think I'm falling in love with them."

Chuck was smiling at him. Dean was a little creeped out by how  _fatherly_  his expression was. Maybe he was adjusting a little better than he really said he was.

"I hope you're not mad that the last angels ever are being raised by, well,  _us_." Dean shrugged. "They are your kids."

Chuck suddenly lost that expression from before, and his face dropped. "I don't mind, Dean. Really." Chuck turned away, rubbing his forehead again like it was paining him.

"Everyone's my child now." Chuck said quietly, dejected.

An angel noticed his pain and stopped him, towering over him, and silently felt his forehead.

"I'm okay, Aziraphale, thank you." Chuck took the large hand off his forehead, squeezed it gently and reassuringly, and pushed farther into the house.

Dean waited with Kevin in the living room. He saw Chuck wander through the house, just in the short distance be confronted by several concerned angels. Chuck moved through the house, finally sitting on the back porch swing. And he was looking out at his, it was true, massively over gardened backyard. He was still sitting there when they had to leave.


	13. Chapter 13

Cas seemed oddly quiet as he sat in the back with baby Red in his lap. The other three were strapped into carseats, all of them extremely active as they'd just had enough energy to last for days. Their tiny hands were grabbing, their eyes blinked as they looked around the car and babbled.

Cas was frowning as he let Red wrap his hand around his thumb, he met Dean's green eyes as they slid to him in the rear view mirror.

"I am  _not_  happy, Dean." Cas mumbled, looking out the window as the stores went by.

Shit, Dean thought. Did Cas find out from one of the angels about Chuck's real identity?

"Uh.." Dean wasn't sure what he should say now. He flicked his eyes to meet Sam's in the passenger's seat, and Sam looked like he had no idea what to do either.

"You promised me Crowley would be gone by time they hatched." Cas kept frowning, and the two brothers let out little sighs of relief in the front seat.

"We haven't even let him out of the dungeon for a while, Cas. Why are you bringing it up all the sudden?" Dean once again met his eyes in the rear view.

Cas rubbed his hand over Red's hair, the bright hair fluffing up in tiny wisps. His white wings shuffled a little and his hand grabbed Cas's collar, reaching up for his earlobe.

"I have been doing a lot of thinking. About how the fledglings must consume energy. And if there is a demon in the house-" He held the redheaded baby just a little tighter and pressed his lips together in a tiny frown.

"What are you talking about, Cas?" Sam was the one who spoke up this time.

"Angels can open their souls to give out energy, because of their harness on their own souls. Demons can also open their souls in ways humans can't. Fledglings were always protected in heaven, and if any of them feed from a demon-" He hugged Red even closer.

"I don't know what could happen to them. We've never been able to find out in history." He ran his hand tenderly over the bright red hair again. "I'm worried about them."

Dean knew he had a point. But they couldn't just let the guy go, right? What if he reverted to be a full-blooded demon? It was  _dangerous_.

It crossed Dean's mind to kill him. Crowley had killed plenty of the people he cared about. But he just couldn't find it in him to do that.

"Okay, Cas. We'll figure something out." Dean locked his jaw and squeezed the steering wheel tighter. He'd been putting it off long enough, and Dean was worried about his kids too. But he wasn't quite sure what to do with the demon in the dungeon.

* * *

_Crowley's POV_

Let me tell you one little thing that's been going through my mind.

Fuck. This. Goddamn. Bunker.

The most ironic part is I'm the closest to being human as I have been in centuries and they're treating me shittier than I when I was even a demon.

He gave me pancakes.  **Without. Butter.**

Seriously.  _Without the fucking butter._

Who pulls that shit?!

Dean Winchester, that's who.

Let me tell you why prisoners are put into solitary confinement. I was all alone in the dark with nothing but my thoughts about everything I've done in the past few years.

My guilt was the worst part of this prison. For example, I hadn't thought about when I'd consumed that angel egg since I'd done it. And now I couldn't take my mind off of it.

I wondered how many angels I'd consumed. What they'd be like now. If it made me a bad person killing them like that, before they were born. At the time, the power it had given me made me elated. But thinking now, I was filled with guilt instead.

Fuck the human blood Sam injected me with. Fuck  _feelings_  in general. And I never even asked for that stupid Moose to do that to me, it's causing me enough grief to be slammed with damn  _feelings_  and his brother comes around and treats me like it's my fault Sam came within an inch of death.

The first day he dragged me back here was the worst. Sam almost died the night the angels fell, and after Dean had done everything he could to save him I heard his heavy boots clunking along outside the dungeon, and he beat me up so badly I don't even think I woke up until the next day. Now, it was just the cold shoulder and general abandonment.

And the worst part was that I found myself thinking I  _deserved_  it.

 _Ugh_.

Life was much easier as a full-blooded demon.

Now, life for me is boring as hell. And yes, there are plenty of boring things in hell. Like the Endless Line, 5 o' clock LA Freeway Traffic, and Advanced Placement Chemistry were my personal favorites.

One sense of entertainment was trying to figure out what was going outside the dark, iron walls of this dungeon. I'd only heard tidbits of conversation to let me know that the little fledglings had hatched.

Did I want to see them? Yes.

Did I want to eat them? Obviously not (maybe just a little nibble to see if they still had the power like when they'd been unborn, but nothing more than that, really. I was just curious).

Why didn't they just let me see them?

They gave me two meals a day, a kind of brunch and dinner. Before the babies hatched, Kevin or Sam would come let me out and I could eat dinner with them with my hands loosely cuffed so I could handle a fork. But now, I was never let out.

This dungeon was damp and smelled horrible. Chains and cuffs with holding sigils lined the wall. And I was greatful at least that they hadn't used those torture tools and put me on the rack. Yet, at least.

You know what, goddammit, this is not how you treat a  _King_.

If I ever get my demonhood back I'm sicking my hellhound Growley on their asses. (I wonder how my precious little puppy is doing. Hmm.)

I usually spent my time with my eye to the small crack in the door, watching. Sometimes I saw someone walk by or Kevin spread out his papers and work.

I hated being disrespected and humiliated like this.

I finally caught a glimpse of a fledgling once, when Castiel walked by the room with a small baby with a shock of red hair and white wings in his arms. But this was all I saw for a long time.

At least I didn't have to yell my voice to shreds to warn the Winchesters about the demons in the area. They'd been far away the day I beat my damn hands to a bloody pulp and wore my voice raw. I warned Dean a few more times whenever they moved closer. But it seemed like now, they had vanished. Maybe a few hunters had picked them up, I don't know and I don't  _care_.

I want to feel sunlight on my body and finally breathe in fresh air for once. If only that fallen angel wasn't so damn protective of those kids. Not like I could do anything to them, anyway, chained like a this.

They finally left me out around three weeks after the flegdlings had hatched, but I was just guestimating.

"You so much as look at them and I swear I will cut off your balls and wear them as a necklace." Dean said as I finally saw the whole dungeon light up for the first time in a long while.

"Okay, okay." I muttered, putting my hands up to sheild my eyes from the lights. I didn't say the phrase just waiting to roll off my tongue,  _sounds sexy_.

We had stew for dinner. I have to admit the food the eldest Winchester prepared was actually quite good. At least, when I had a taste of the stuff he made for the rest of the bunker. I knew he still did things like burn food or put too much salt to spite me.

Do you feel bad for me yet?

Don't.

I already feel bad enough for myself, stewing in guilt. And what I said before, about deserving it.  _Bleh_.

Castiel was holding one of the babies at the table, who was making a fuss because his teeth were already starting to come in. The kid was somewhat big, he had light brown wings that were flapping erratically. His legs, wrapped up in a yellow footsie covered in brown teddy bear faces, were kicking and squirming as he wailed and Cas tried to comfort him, giving him little toys to chew on or petting his ever-moving wings, trying to calm him down as he hummed to him.

So I at least knew there were two, the redhead and this one.

I offered to give them some tips, I mean, I'd had a son back when I was human. I was shut down right when the words left my mouth.

I asked why he was teething now, if they were less than a month old. I told them usually it happens at three months.

Dean just glared at me and mumbled something about them aging faster than humans and didn't say anything further.

We'd gotten halfway through dinner before I even knew why they'd finally pulled me out of that hellhole.

"Okay, Crowley." Dean huffed and spoke up. "I guess you're wondering why we even brought you out here."

I raised my eyebrows in an 'obviously' kind of glance. "Yes, I am."

"Well, just to be honest, we're deciding what to do with you. And now that the kids have started crawling, we don't want you around anymore." Dean said bitterly.

"I'm not evil anymore!" I insisted. "It's unnerving, but I don't feel the need to attack or hurt anyone anymore!" I shivered. I don't like being good. There's too much pain and guilt involved. No damn thanks.

Dean crossed his arms. "This is what's going to happen." He growled. "Cas is going to carve a twin sigil on you, and one on me. And if you ever come within five miles of us, I'm going to feel it. And if you  _ever_ -" At this Dean came even closer, gritting his teeth and wearing that scary, I-mean-business expression. "-so much as touch a  _hair_  on any of my family member's heads, I will  _end_  you. And it will be slow. Just because I'm out of hell doesn't mean I've forgotten what I learned down there. You get it?"

I guess I'd have to find some new playthings. Maybe across the pond, reconnect with my roots.

"Yes." I said huskily. "I understand."

"Cas," Dean looked over to the fallen angel, who met his gaze and nodded curtly. The little baby was passed on to Dean's outstretched arms. I noticed the long trail of brown feathers that lined down the fledgling's back, below his wings.  _An archangel...?_

Dean began bobbing, kissing the tiny forehead and making his way from the room. It was very obvious to me what was going on when Dean touched Cas softly on the shoulder, his touch lingering. 

"Dean, do you really want to leave me alone with your boyfriend?" 

Sam shot me a glare and stood up as well. Kevin especially held my gaze, until I actually began to feel hot under the collar.

"Give him hell, Cas. Put in a little something for my mom." Kevin spat bitterly, beginning to stand up roughly too.

"...I didn't kill her." I said, hating that I actually got a twinge in my heart when I saw Kevin's expression of elated disbelief.

"Where the fuck is she?!" He had lunged at me, twisting my shirt and actually sounding threatening.  _Well done, little Kev._  I thought.

"Wherever she wanted to go. If she's ever said she's wanted to live somewhere all her life, she's there." I said.

"You're  _lying_." Kevin seethed. "Where?!"

I put my hands up in innocence. "I don't know. We let her go."

The man saw my expression and dropped back in disbelief. He looked speechless, before he took his hand from my shirt and sprinting away.

"Dean!" He was screaming happily. " _Dean_!"

I turned to see Cas with a horrible expression on his face. I gulped.

* * *

"Think this is far away enough?" Dean turned to Cas and lifted an eyebrow. The ex-angel nodded, hiding his split knuckles a little in embarrassment, bringing his fists closer to his body.

"I'm glad you gave him hell, Cas. God knows he's been giving it out." Dean tried to make his friend feel a little less guilty. The angel paused and nodded briefly. Dean held the back of his neck and pressed a soft kiss to the crown of his head. "They'll be safe now, okay?" 

Dean pulled the car over to the side of the road. His wrist on his left arm was heavily bandaged, the twin sigil to the large one Crowley had on his chest was burning now, alerting him that the demon was near. Dean was beyond relieved they'd have a warning system if the sort-of demon ever tried to pull anything.

Dean wrenched open the front door, and then the back, pulling Crowley out roughly and taking the bag off of his head.

"I mean it. Never come back here ever again. I'll feel it, and I _will_ flay you alive." Dean sneered.

"Good to know." Crowley spoke through a split lip.

There were no goodbyes. The two men pulled a smooth U-turn and were speeding away. 

"Thank you," Cas said softly. "I just...worry about them. That's all." 

"Yeah, Cas, me too." Dean admitted with a soft huff. "He's gone now." 

Cas wanted to hold his hand that lay between them on the seat as Dean drove one-handed. He settled on letting the sides of their pinkies touch instead. 


	14. Chapter 14

Chuck slowly woke up to find two pairs of arms around him, a man and a woman were fast asleep on either side of him. He gently slid their arms away from his body and scooted to the edge of the bed, careful not to wake the four other people who had somehow managed to squeeze themselves onto his queen-sized bed.

He picked his way through the room on any open carpet spots he could, careful not to step on any of the angels fast asleep on the floor. He bit back a sound of surprise as he felt someone's fingers curl around his ankle. He whipped his head back and saw an angel, a man who appeared around eighteen or nineteen, his eyes open and glassy with sleep.

"I had a nightmare." He whispered, and Chuck crouched down and cupped his hand on his cheek, gently smoothing his thumb over the soft skin. This always seemed to calm them down.

"It was just a dream." Chuck tried to be kind, and the angel's eyelids fluttered as he gently smudged his cheek with his thumb again. "Go back to sleep. I'm just making you all a little breakfast." The teen nodded and let go, and Chuck finally made it out the door, looking back at the room. People were draped everywhere like they'd all just passed out after a crazy party. Chuck smiled a little. It looked like this every day.

He closed the door as quietly as he could and clunked down the stairs, ready to go to the store and buy a dozen cartons of eggs and start pounding out omelettes for a couple hours. "What have I gotten myself into?" He muttered, dragging his fingers through his unruly hair.

* * *

"Soloviel?" A young angel, a teenage girl who had her dark brown hair cut short just so that it wouldn't get in the way, jogged up to a man who was using a cracked pan over a fire, scraping the egg with the top half of a broken spatula.

"Yep," An angel looked up and saw one of the girls from his fallen crew, the scout he'd sent out earlier this morning. "What's up?" He poked at the egg again.

"We saw the demon Crowley, he was some kind of hostage. But he disappeared soon after he was dumped. By the _Winchesters_." She announced, sitting down with a sigh and looking into the pan at the sizzling egg. "I can't believe we just saw him like that!" She yawned and tugged some of Soloviel's greyish quilt to fit over her own shoulder. "Damn. It's chilly today. Can you make me one?"

Sol rolled his eyes. "Fine," He grinned, and she tugged a little more of the quilt from his back.

"What else?" Soloviel asked, finally sliding the somewhat dirty egg from the pan and cracking a new one. He was the leader of the FNF crew, which stood for Fallen, Not Fucked. The ragtag crew had around twenty people, were all up and bustling, some, like Sol, cooking breakfast, others getting ready to go out and greet the day, holding empty trash bags to do some dumpster-diving for 'new' clothes or supplies, recyclables, hell maybe even food if they found the right restaurant.

"I just got off the payphone with someone from the other crew a few miles away, SHW? We met them a few weeks ago? Remember them?" The girl with the pixie cut spoke up again.

Sol nodded. SHW crew: Still Heaven's Warriors. Most crews, no matter how small, chose names for themselves. Garrisons always had names in heaven, it would be strange without them. SHW were all right. Not the friendliest little group Soloviel had encountered, but they seemed bitter because of the losses they'd suffered. Too many of them had to be taken away to hospitals for their horrible infections, never to come back to the crew. He heard a few had even died on the streets.

"Well, they told me that the car we saw drop Crowley off belonged to the Winchesters, the black Impala with the CNK in the license plate. They've been seeing it around their area. That's not all." The girl pulled a folded piece of paper from her shabby coat pocket. "The map we jacked from those demons we took care of a few weeks ago? Look."

She pointed with a finger peeking from a black glove with the fingers cut off at the radius drawn on the map. "That's where SHW has been seeing the car around. We know there's something going on down there for sure now. We just don't know what. What do you say, o mighty leader? Should we all take a little road trip?"

She teasingly stole most of the quilt from him and wrapped it around her own shoulders. He didn't mind her little antics. She'd been one of the angels that had almost died from infection of her wing wounds, and Sol had taken an active part in helping her get back to health. They'd found her feverish and half-dead already, and now she was alive and kicking, just had some pretty large and twisted scars on her back.

"Why not? I think we've pretty much scoured this little area of the town. Rico's pizza keeps yelling at us when we dive in their dumpsters. Says it scares away the customers." Soloviel laughed, wrapping his jacket tighter around his shoulders.

"Oh, but Rico's always has the best dumpsters!" She laughed and rested her cheek on Sol's shoulder. "I'm sure we'll find a better place."

"I'm sure we will." He reached over and squeezed her shoulder reassuringly, and picked up a little off his egg with his fingers and began to eat. He'd had a pretty respected position in heaven, so it wasn't hard to fall into the role of leader here either.

The fallen needed order and instruction and leaders in this time especially, when the world was chaos and heaven had one goddamn occupant who was batshit insane, when a life of living in garrisons and being powerful warriors turned into a life of feeling useless, dirty and poor, becoming ex-angels who dug for scraps. Life was so uncertain now.

"We'll start packing today." Soloviel announced, patting her on the back, standing up and stretching, slipping his last cigarette out of his pocket, lighting it, and taking a drag.

Chuck's angels gardened. They trimmed the rosebushes and watered the hydrangeas and pulled up tiny weeds. Nine crowded around Chuck's tiny television and watched the news. One played with his orange kitty with a tiny feather on a stick, laughing as the paws swatted at it. Some liked to walk around the neighborhood when they got bored and secretly garden and touch up the neighbor's front yards, too. Four drew with chalk on the sidewalk. Some angels actually put Chuck's mattress-room to use and napped like cats with their arms around each other as the windows cast rectangular spots of light across their bodies, chests rising and falling as they tried to dream anything but nightmares.

The girl with the brown pixie cut and fingerless gloves sipped on a half-empty, flat coca cola drink someone had thrown out two hours ago. Everyone was wearing grimy backpacks, pots and pans hanging from them and clanging together, the teenagers had shotguns crossing their backs, others lugged lumpy white plastic bags full of cans and beer bottles that slid around and clinked with aluminum-to-glass. One munched on half a stale bagel. Someone had to walk with their arm around another's shoulder, pausing every few minutes to spew behind a building after getting food poisoning from some rancid chicken yesterday. That was just another risk, and they weren't afraid to take them.

Calcifer played cards with some of the other angels, they were betting with one of the little crafts they'd started; round and polished river stones that they'd painted on, colorful stripes or swirls or little smiling faces or clouds or polka-dots. Calcifer dragged the stones toward him like poker chips and threw the winning cards in the air in triumph. Angels brushed their teeth, knocking elbows with each other (and apologizing), pulled on comfy pajamas and racing to try and earn a spot next to Chuck, leaving the whole downstairs room with wall-to-wall mattresses unoccupied. They were funny like that.

FNF also snuggled up to each other, piling on dirty blankets and yawning and falling onto the crooks of other's necks or falling back into other's chests with arms wrapped around theirs, the fire in a trash can glowing orange and finally calming down to pulsating coals, and  _damn_  the wind bit at the apples of cheeks and tips of noses and everyone smelled of body odor and dumpsters but they still pressed tight to each other and pretended they didn't mind.

* * *

Chuck woke up the next day, much later than he usually did. Only one woman was clinging to him this morning, and the room had much more floorspace than usual. Chuck smelled something cooking, and scrambled to get off his bed and rush out the door, quickly thumping down the stairs. "Wait!" He called out.

The angels got a lot of shell in the eggs he had leftover from yesterday, and they had to throw all of the soupy yellow with sharp white shards out. Chuck went to get his wallet and keys and go down to the store once more for more supplies. And he bought in bulk at Costco and was still running out much too quickly.

A man was sleeping by the store's entrance by the cart return, his hand extended with a tin cup with a few quarters and dimes in it. Chuck pressed a five dollar bill into the can, and the man stirred as he felt the can dip slightly. He met Chuck's eyes.

"Oh, my God." The poor man said, scrambling to get up. Chuck had seen that expression of recognition before. He was probably going to need to make a lot more grocery trips from now on.


	15. Chapter 15

The babies weren't all that hard to take care of. For one, they never ate and that meant no dealing with diapers or baby food. They only cried when something was wrong, and usually cried when they needed to be brought back over to Chuck's house. It had been very easy when they were tiny and not crawling yet; but now they'd discovered that by moving their little arms and legs, they could actually  _move._ And this wasn't necessarily the best thing.

It basically meant they had to keep an eye on them constantly, and if they put them somewhere they most likely would not just sit and stay there. Dean found it the easiest if he held them to keep track of them.

Tonight was a peaceful night in the bunker. Everyone had just finished dinner, and it had been Sam's idea to dig through some of the old Men of Letters records and play them to see which ones were good enough to keep and play again, and which ones would be good to sell.

So far, they hadn't decided to get rid of any of the records.

The one playing on the old spinner was a smooth, jazzy song that crackled through the phonograph. Kevin was busy trying to locate his mother, he was in the room and trying to call relatives and friends and try to see if anyone had seen her. He told Sam and Dean that he was going to leave to be with Mama Tran if he found her, and that he would make sure of explaining his findings from the machine before he left.

Kevin was working hard at the table, but as the music played Dean had little Io and Red in his arms, swaying around to the music and spinning in little circles. The babies howled with excitement and squealed, erupting into giggles as he dipped them and kept spinning slowly.

At first, Sam had been sitting down with Bobby and giving him little toys to chew on, the baby's fists coated in shining drool, but when the kid began to make a fuss, kicking his legs wrapped in a cloth-like green footed pajamas, he scooped up the kid and began to move around a little too, and Dean started laughing at him and teasing, to which the younger brother teased right back.

Cas was the only one who wasn't feeling the whole calm atmosphere as the phonograph swelled with crackly sounds. He was very worried about his youngest angel, the still very tiny towheaded baby with dark black wings.

He was in the pajamas Cas liked the most on him because it matched his eyes, a cerulean footsie with tiny white sailboats, and he was sitting on a soft yellow blanket. The baby stared up at Cas with wide eyes, chewing on his balled up fist absent-mindedly. He was sitting up on his own, but wasn't showing any signs of wanting to crawl, unlike his brothers and sister who had been off like rockets.

Cas was worried. He had been so small when he hatched.

"Come here, Leoniel." Cas beckoned, spreading his arms out wide. "Come crawl."

The baby slobbered on his fist, and then wiped it off on the perfectly clean pajamas, leaving a smear of shininess like a snail trail. He toothlessly giggled at the face Cas made. That was another thing; Bobby had already started teething, and there was no sign of it from the smallest fledgling yet.

"Come here. I want to know you can crawl." Cas said again, not even changing his voice from the regular flat tones he used, whereas Sam and Dean had completely been consumed by the motherese dialect a long time ago.

The baby finally dropped to all fours. Cas's eyes lit up. "Yes. Move here, toward father. Come here." He beckoned him closer with the excited flipping of his fingers.

Leo simply squirmed, kicking his back legs around, before closing his eyes and falling asleep with a little burble with his chubby cheek smushed to the blanket.

"Leoniel! Wake up," Cas said dejectedly, plopping his hands into his lap. He stared at him sleeping for a second and then scooped him up, barreling past swaying Sam and Dean and back into his bedroom.

"Cas?" Dean asked as he passed by. The ex-angels features were troubled. "Hey, you okay?"

Dean set Io and Red down on the yellow blanket and scrambled to follow Cas. He knew it wasn't rational, but deep down he was scared that Cas might hurt them, if he was being careless he might put them in harm's way.

Dean pulled open the bedroom door, thank God he hadn't locked it behind him. Cas was curled up around the tiny dark-winged baby and sobbing, his chest squeezing in and out, tears streaming from his eyes.

"Hey! Hey, Cas, you okay?" Dean rushed up and touched him on the shoulder. " _Cas_!"

Cas sobbed something unintellegible and Dean forced him to slow down.

"He didn't crawl he's never going to learn I'm being a horrible father and they're  _hungry_  Dean they're so hungry and its my fault he's so tiny and what am I going to do if he starves to death Dean I don't want my babies to die and I'm killing them I'm hurting them just like my other family and they're starving and I-"

"Shhh." Dean forced him to shut up, pressing a hand hard to his shoulder and cradling the very confused baby in his other arm, Leo reached up and began to play with Dean's earlobe with his sticky palm.

"Cas. I think first off, you need more sleep." Dean felt bad that he hadn't seen the signs of total fatigue earlier. He had been kept pretty busy. "And now, you need to calm down. I don't know if you're having an anxiety attack or something, or you're fatigued or something but Cas, you have to pull yourself together. Deep breath, Cas.  _Right now_."

The ex-angel forced his eyes shut, a few unshed tears popping out and sliding down the crinkles in his cheeks, as he sucked in a breath and rattled it out once again.

"Good. Do it again." Dean demanded, doing a tiny little hop to adjust the baby who was slipping down his side. He took his hand off Cas's shoulder and used it to hold the baby in place. Cas breathed in deep and a shaky breath came out once again.

"Cas, listen man. You can't keep doing this. You have to try and be stronger. You can't just break down whenever you're scared or overwhelmed. You have four angels who need you and you have to pick yourself up. Yeah, I know this whole situation with heaven and Chuck and all that sucks. And I know you might need a few more hours of sleep a night, but you can _do_ this, okay?"

Cas finally straightened up, dragging the back of his hand across his eyes. He nodded.

"Get more sleep, Cas. I think a lot of this is because you're exhausted." Dean bobbed Leo a little as the baby began to squirm. "Six solid hours, okay? You're not allowed to leave this room until you do."

Cas nodded, uncomplaining, once again. He paused for a second.

"Dean, please give me my son." He spoke up softly, sniffling and wiping the tears away once again.

"Hey. Six hours of sleep without a baby feeding off your energy. I forgot to add that before." Dean twisted away just a little. "Go to sleep, Cas."

Cas shook his head. "I want to talk with him."

"Babies don't understand speech yet." Dean tried to hide a smile from his lips, but handed the little boy over anyway.

The pairs of blue eyes met. Cas pressed a kiss to his forehead and spoke directly to him. "Leoniel, you will grow big and strong, and one day and you won't only crawl but will run and fly and look evil in the eye and tear out its heart." Cas said firmly.

Dean blinked. "Well, that escalated quickly.."

Cas tilted his head to the side. "Angels are warriors, Dean." He explained, almost looking ticked off that it seemed Dean had forgotten.

Dean chuckled. "Right." He reached out and took the child before he could nuzzle up and get too comfortable with Castiel. "Goodnight, Cas. Sleep tight. I mean it."

And when Dean came back to the living room, he laughed his ass off at both Sammy and Kevin, their arms full, slow-twirling around the room like idiots.

* * *

_Meanwhile..._

Bobby smiled to himself as he read the newspaper. This was one of the best parts; he never had to scour the pages looking for a case. So instead, all he read was the comics. He'd maybe start to sneak a little of the crossword before his wife would bring breakfast over and smack him on the arm for starting without her. She always had been much, much smarter than him anyway.

He listened as she hummed her tone-deaf songs as she cooked breakfast, today it was bacon. Yesterday it had been french toast. Karen really was the greatest cook.

Here, Bobby's eyes were a little brighter and younger, it was a time when his hair was darker and his body more agreeable, it didn't creak and groan and burble quite as much anymore. Karen came over, wearing her sunny yellow apron, and she put a record on the player, a peppy little song, and Bobby and her stood up and she wrapped her arms around his shoulders and they began to sway, and Bobby kissed her below the ear on her jawbone like she liked and she kept swaying, smiling, humming to the music.

_Ding, dong._

The doorbell? Bobby pulled away from his wife, his eyebrows knit together in confusion. They hadn't had any visitors here since...well, ever. Whenever he visited someone else, it was usually Ellen and Jo and Ash and Pamela down at the roadhouse, it was also where Ash's technology was set up, and they never came here to their boring old house.

"I'll get it," Bobby said, ambling to the door and pulling it open.

There stood a young man, he guessed around nineteen or twenty, and he was just about Sam's height when Sam was his age, close to six foot two. He was wearing a plaid flannel and jeans. He was smiling at Bobby, his eyes were a pale blue and he had brown hair that was pulled in a side-part, some of his bangs flopping onto his forehead in a classic 50s haircut. He was handsome, and even though he didn't physically resemble Sam or Dean, Bobby knew their was a connection somehow. He just couldn't put his finger on it.

"Hi Bobby," The young man said, smiling and shoving his hands into his denim pockets. "Sorry if this is a little weird for you. My name's Tobias, and-"

"You're a Winchester. I'll be damned." Bobby spoke up before he could finish. "I can tell, it's by the way you're carrying yourself. No doubt about it."

The young man looked relieved that Bobby had been so quick. It skipped over a lot of awkward explaining and disbelief. He smiled again, it was a little crooked. "Hi, grandpa."

Bobby was pulling the young man into a hug before he could even react. Tobias quickly reciprocated, wrapping his arms around his back and shutting his eyes.

Bobby pulled away. "Now, don't be callin' me grandpa, boy. I'm in my fourties now." He said gruffly, and he looked Tobias up and down. "How in the hell you get here, anyway? You better not be dead. I'll kill you again right now if you pulled that on your father, whichever one it was."

Tobias smiled, shrugging his broad shoulders. "Nope, just a routine visit. I promise."

Bobby frowned. "I wouldn't rely on angels to bring you back to life time after time, boy. It's dangerous to put your life in someone else's hands like that. One of these days you'll get stuck here. Now, what you came for, it better be important."

"Oh, I don't have to rely on angels to bring me back to life, Bobby. I'm definitely not putting my life in someone else's hands. And I didn't die to come here." He answered, trying to reassure the old Hunter.

"How?" Bobby asked simply.

"Because I am one." Tobias answered, and suddenly the room was full of brown, his six stacked wings open and spread wide. Tobias grinned innocently as if to say 'see, grandpa? Nothing to worry about.' Too bad Bobby didn't see his expression. He crumpled to the floor like a puppet whose strings had been cut, in a dead faint.

"..Bobby?" Tobias's face fell as he quickly tucked his wings away and rushed froward, cupping Bobby's scruffy cheek in his palm. "Grandpa? Hey, you okay?" 


	16. Chapter 16

Bobby slowly came to, he'd been moved to a chair and his head struggled to lift off his chest as his vision swam. "Tobias..?" He asked, and he felt a large hand touch his shoulder.

"Right here," Tobias said quickly, reassuringly. "Hey, are you alright?"

Bobby met the kid's pale blue eyes one again. "Just gonna be frank here, boy. Why in the hell are you an  _angel_? A friggin'  _archangel_  at that?"

Tobias ran his fingers through his smooth, mousy brown hair, his cheeks reddening a little. "It's a long story, Bobby. And that's not why I came here, anyway. Have you been talking with Ash and Ellen lately?"

Bobby screwed up his face. "He  _did_  say something. Angel radio going quiet or something like that. It was strange."

Tobias's eyes grew sad. He clasped his hands together on the table. "Do you.." He licked his lips. "Bobby, do you have any idea what happened?"

Bobby didn't like the expression on his grandson's face. "I know something's been going on with the angels, but I'm not quite sure what." Bobby lifted an eyebrow. "Tobias..?"

The archangel pressed his lips into a line and flicked his pale blue eyes away from Bobby's face. He tightened his hands around each other until the knuckles were white.

"The angels...Bobby, all the angels are gone. One of the angels, his name is Metatron, he was the one who did it. He cast them all out and stole all their power." He huffed out a frustrated sigh. "There's not an angel except him left in Heaven. And the only ones left are on earth... _us_."

Bobby immediately furrowed his brows. "What are talking about? What year is it?"

"It's 2014 down there." Tobias explained. "Same year I was born."

Bobby realized. "You time-traveled here, boy?!" He demanded. "What the  _hell_  were you thinking?"

Tobias looked nervous. "What were we supposed to do? There's only five angels in existence right now, and Metatron's one of them." Bobby was surprised when the young man shot out his hand and gripped Bobby's wrist.

"Please. We had to come back. We're only babies right now. And Metatron's this close-" Tobias held up his pointer finger and thumb pinching less than a centimeter apart, "- to stealing God's position once and for all. And there's no way we can let that happen."

Bobby scowled at him. "You're Dean's kid, aren't you? He was always making decisions like this."

Tobias fell back into his chair and crossed his arms. "Uh...it's complicated. I guess my main father is Castiel. But him, Sam, Dean, Kevin, all four of them raised us."

Bobby ran his hand through his brown hair. "Who's 'us'? Five angels and one of 'ems this Metatron guy... you sayin' there's _four_  of you?"

Tobias smiled shyly. "Quadruplets, yes."

"Sheesh. What a handful."

Tobias crossed his arms and blushed a little. "It takes a village, yadda yadda. Look, we're getting off subject. We need your help."

Bobby straightened up. "I'll say I've been retired for long enough. What kinda help you talkin'?" He asked gruffly.

"Massive revolt with heaven's occupants." Tobias said, pursing his lips a little in concern. "Dammit. That sounded a lot more achievable in my head."

Bobby frowned. "And just how do you expect  _me_  to do that?"

Tobias looked trapped. He shrugged. "Uh, to be honest, Bobby, we never asked how you were able to do it. You just...I don't know, we just felt like you always know what to do."

Bobby again looked confused. "So, I already did it? I mean, I was able to? Like, in the future I had done it already?"

Tobias nodded. "I tried to understand time travel, I really did, but if you really want some science-y explanation you're gonna have to ask Leo. But all I know is that the timelines are basically set in stone. If I'm back here, everything that happened is already inevitable. So yeah, you do it. I just don't know how."

"You're saying I stage a massive revolt by  _myself_?" He huffed. "If you haven't noticed, I'm a  _dead human_. I didn't think we could do much once we went Yonder."

Tobias narrowed those eyes, and the sharp expression he gave Bobby finally had the human get a glimpse of his potential to be powerful. "You can still do a hell of a lot, Bobby. And it won't be by yourself. That's why my brothers and sister aren't here right now. They're going around and asking other people here for their help."

He finally smiled and stood up. "I  _know_  you, Bobby. You love this heaven. You love that you get to rest. But somewhere deep, deep down underneath the sweetness and the comics and the breakfasts and the dancing...you  _still_  feel that drive, Bobby." Tobias's pale blue eyes were twinkling as he looked down at him. Bobby didn't realize that his face had dropped into an expression of disbelief.

"I know you a hell of a lot better than you think I would." Tobias spoke up. "In the future, expect me to visit you a lot. I was named after you, you know." The young archangel cleared his throat. "Go back to the roadhouse. Everyone will be there, including me and my siblings. We start planning at oh five hundred."

Bobby still had that look of disbelief on his face when the muffled whump of wings sounded in the air and the kid vanished.

"Sam n' Dean, what in _God's_ name have you gotten yourselves into this time." He mumbled, going and getting his coat that hung by the door. The boy had been right. He  _still_  had that drive. He would always have that drive. That was why he became a ghost in the first place, right? And how hard could it be to take down  _one_  angel, especially the majority of heaven's occupants were involved? He pulled on his coat, kissed Karen goodbye, grabbed his trusty sawed-off and slung it over his back, and made his way to Heaven's roadhouse.

* * *

Dean wished he'd invested in a pair of earplugs the last time he'd gone on a baby supply run. The three boys were wailing their heads off, thank God one of the kids was asleep at least.

"Cas, they're angel babies, right?! Aren't they supposed to be, you know,  _angelic_?" Dean asked irritably from the driver's seat.

Cas struggled to hold the squirming and screaming Red on his lap. "Being an angel and possessing the qualities humans define as 'angelic' such as kindness and perfect behavior are two separate things, Dean." Cas answered, shushing the baby gently as he cried. "Their teeth are growing in and their wings are also getting stronger and growing in feathers instead of down. It's painful and uncomfortable, Dean, they can't help it."

Dean was relieved when they finally pulled up to Chuck's house. "Maybe they'll feel better with some good ol' energy."

He did a double take. What the hell?

Chuck's front yard was littered with tents. People milled about, cooking things in cans over fires. This place looked like it had turned into a gypsy camp overnight.

Chuck had been sitting on the front steps, and when he saw the old Impala rumble up he perked up and rushed towards the car.

"What the hell is this, Chuck?" Dean indicated to the scatterplot of tents on his lawn.

Chuck laughed nervously. "Uh..about that..."

Dean lifted an eyebrow. "You didn't take in  _more_ , did you?"

Chuck ran a hand through his hair. "Uh...I couldn't say no? I just can't turn them away, Dean, I'm sorry."

Chuck looked back at his house that seemed to be completely overtaken by these fallen angels. "Let's hope I get my grace back and get all these angels back in heaven soon, because I'm not sure how many more people I can afford to stuff into this house before it starts tearing at the seams."

Dean chuckled as he looked at Chuck. "Have I ever told you you're awesome?"

Chuck smiled back at him. "Probably not enough."


	17. Chapter 17

Dean finally managed to put the four babies to sleep, and he was exhausted as hell himself. They were both "teething" and "winging" at the same time and all of them were uncomfortable and cranky all the time now. Dean was put on teething duty and tried to have them gently come out of their tantrums as he gave them little toys to gnaw on.

Cas was in charge of taking care of their developing wings and had to comb out the clumpy down at least three times a day, the little fluffy feathers that shed were literally everywhere and Dean sneezed at least once every ten minutes. Sam was on vaccumming the fluffy feathers duty and he got very mad when he saw the mound of silver, black, brown and white fluff on Cas's bed and all over the floor.

Dean dragged himself to bed and tried to fall asleep. And then the damn doorbell rang.

* * *

"I thought you said there were four of you." Bobby said through his teeth to Tobias. "Well, where the hell's the fourth?"

Tobias offered to escort Bobby back to his personal heaven just to make sure he found it again, after the short meeting they'd had at the Roadhouse. Nothing much had happened except getting them all in the same place and explaining what Metatron had done. Then Red and Io left once again to round up more recruits.

"There was an accident." Tobias explained, wringing his hands as they walked. "He's getting better. It's hard time traveling like a hundred years, okay?"

Bobby went on the defensive. "What accident? Who? Speak up, boy!"

Tobias ran a hand through his brown hair. "On the way over...my little brother, he was the one who's always been the best at time travel, did it all the time when we were kids. The rest of us couldn't pick it up after we were about ninety years in. So he picked up the slack...he worked too hard. They broke in a few places."

Bobby's face was in disbelief. "His  _wings_  broke?"

Tobias frowned. "Yeah. He's been..getting better. In fact, I gotta get back to him right now." Tobias frowned just thinking about it. He and Red were born first, an even though Red had been a few seconds before him, Tobias had always been the tallest and strongest (being an archangel) and always felt like the oldest of all his siblings, that he always need to take care of the other three.

Bobby frowned and jabbed a finger at him. "You better take care of your brother, kid. If I find out otherwise your ass is grass."

Tobias nodded, his blue eyes sad. "I try, grandpa."

Bobby clapped him on the shoulder. "Okay. Now git. I have some planning 'n prepping to do." He said lightheartedly.

Tobias spread his wings and sped back to the heaven that Leo was hiding out in, a heaven with a quaint little French street. He came into the bedroom and threw open the heavy curtains, to the tiny balcony overlooking the street as sunlight poured in.

"Hey, Leo." Tobias tried to keep the volume down unless his baby brother still had that awful headache from a few days ago.

"Bobby?" Leo asked groggily. "Hey, did you go and talk to grandpa?"

Tobias came up to the bed and brushed a little bit of blonde hair from Leo's forehead. He was burning with fever, and Tobias frowned. "Yeah. He was wondering about you actually." Tobias smudged his thumb on his baby brother's cheek. "Are you feeling okay, Lee?"

Leo shrugged. "Pretty shitty. But a little less shitty than at first." Leo tried to smile a little bit at his eldest brother, his face was pale and made his freckles seem even darker than before. "But you gathered everyone? It's working?"

"Not everyone yet. But I think so." Tobias answered, sitting up on the edge of the bed. "Sorry you didn't get to see it."

Leo shrugged again, pursing his lips. "It's okay." He mumbled, looking up at Tobias with wide blue eyes, they were somewhat glassy. "Think they'll heal soon?"

Tobias propped his elbow on the headboard of the bed and looked down at him. "I don't know. Think you can pull 'em out to this dimension yet?"

Leo frowned. "Not sure. They hurt so damn badly, Bobby." His voice began to waver.

The eldest brother frowned and sighed. "I know. I don't know what we can do except wait for them to heal."

Leo shook his head. "We need dad, Bobby. When I move them, I can feel the bones shifting around. What if I'm misaligning my bones or something?" He desperately reached for his brother's shirt. "Please. What if I can never fly again? What would happen to me then, huh?" His eyes filled with tears. "I'm already the smallest out of everyone. Please."

"You're going to fly again, Leo, I promise." Tobias answered, but he was still uncertain. It showed as his brown eyebrows drew together.

"Take me to dad. Bobby, please." Leo begged, the tears spilling onto his cheeks. "It hurts."

Tobias gripped his shoulder. "We can't risk them finding out we're here, dammit! That's why we're sticking to the dead people only. This isn't like the little time hiccups we had as kids Leo, we're adults now! This is almost a century away, not a few days or a week!"

"Bobby, I need Cas. I need _Dad_." Leo sniffled. "I don't want to be here anymore. This was a bad idea and I want to go home."

Tobias let Leo duck his head into his chest, his fist clenching onto his flannel as he shuddered out a few shaky breaths. Tobias put a hand above his shoulder blades and smoothed it down.

"What are we supposed to say, Lee? Oh, hi Dad, surprise, we're older now and back in the past...fix his wings please?" Tobias asked, but his voice was surprisingly gentle.

"Well...yeah," Leo joked back with a tiny sniffle. "You've got six wings. Put 'em to use and fly me there."

Tobias grinned. "Ass. You're just jealous of my wings and you know it."

Leo laughed wetly, dabbing at his eye. "I'm not jealous of six. I can barely keep two in check, Bobby."

"Fine. Come here. But you're doing all the talking, understand?" Tobias's tone was soft as he moved to get a better grip on his brother, holding him close in his arms. The two disappeared with a flap of wings.

Tobias helped Leo to his feet, and he hunched over a little and cried out. They were standing at the door of the old bunker. Tobias silently reached out and looped his arm over his baby brother's shoulders, helping him stand up as tall as he could. The blonde kid let out a sharp gasp and a hiss of pain. Maybe it  _was_  best that they get his wings checked out.

Tobias rang the doorbell and tapped his toe along the concrete as he waited for someone to answer the door.

"Who the hell are you?" Dean was the one who answered the door, scowling at the two boys on the front step of the bunker. He looked tired as hell with dark smears under his eyes. "Halloween's about six months away, fyi. It's a little early for trick-or-treating." He said irritably.

Tobias shrugged Leo a little higher up and the smaller boy let out another shaky breath as he leaned onto Tobias's shoulder for support. His eyes were closed and his face was getting much paler by the second. I guess he wasn't going to be doing the talking after all.

"Hi..." Tobias started uncertainly, running his free hand nervously through his mousy brown hair, and Dean cocked an eyebrow irritably.

"This better be important. I'm taking care of four crazy-ass babies and I finally got around to sleeping, kid." Dean said gruffly, sweeping his tired eyes up and down both of them.

"Hi...um...my name's Tobias, and this is my little brother Leoniel. And...uh...we need a little help." Tobias said, and without even thinking he slipped out a few of his eagle brown wings to help support his little brother better, as Leo began slipping down, wrapping the wings around him.

Dean's eyes widened. He didn't seem half-asleep now. He whipped his head back into the bunker.

" _CAS_!"

* * *

Cas watched over Dean's shoulder as Dean worked quickly to dress the kid's large black wings, wrapping and taping splints and trying to be as gentle as possible as the kid, he looked like he was in his late teens, maybe eighteen or nineteen, layed out on the bed.

Leo's face was pale as he neck lolled and he let out a little moan. "Dean..."

"I'm almost done, okay? Almost done." Dean patted his knee under the covers and ripped another piece of tape.

"Okay." Leo said timidly, wiping a little beading of sweat from his nose. "Thanks."

"Hey, no problem." Dean said gruffly. "And I'll go and get you some painkillers, kay?"

Cas left the room as well as Dean went to find medicine. Tobias stood outside, wringing his hands. "How's he doing?" He asked nervously.

"Dean is helping him." Cas answered. He squinted up at Tobias. He was so  _tall_.

Before Cas knew what was happening, he felt arms wrap around his upper back and his cheek was pressed to a soft flannel. "It's nice to see you, Dad."

Cas slipped his arms around Tobias's lower ribcage and flattened his palms on his back. He didn't know what to say for a second. "You're...very tall." Cas mumbled awkwardly.

Tobias's chest bumped up against Cas as he laughed a little. "No, seriously?"

"Yes. I believed you would be aware of that by now." Cas answered, pulling away and tilting his head a little.

"You'll always be the same ol' dad." Tobias laughed.

"Where are the others?" Cas asked, and Tobias frowned a little.

"Still in heaven, doing door-to-doors, trying to get something together. We didn't intend to meet you here, it was only because Leo got hurt. I'm sorry about that." Tobias sat down and ran a hand through his mousy brown hair, letting out a sigh and stretching out his long legs. "I don't know what we're doing. I don't know if we can do this."

"Do what?" Cas asked.

"Organize a revolt in heaven, I guess. Against Metatron." Tobias answered. "Oh..I can't tell you..that much about that."

Tobias then suddenly seemed to notice that Castiel's forearm was wrapped up. He drew his eyebrows together and gently reached out, Cas let Tobias stretch his arm out as he bowed his head in shame.

"What's this, Dad?" Tobias asked, his voice gentle. Cas didn't mind the title so much when it came from his lips in such a loving, casual way.

"It was a mistake." Castiel answered. He felt water rush into his tear ducts. "Tobias-" His voice had started to waver. He still kept his head bowed, he felt so ashamed. The archangel quickly stood up.

"What's the matter?" He coaxed gently.

Cas only looked at his son's semi-scruffy red Converse high-tops. "I'm so sorry." Cas whispered. "I was not there for your birth. You or Samandriel, and I regret that very much.."

"It's okay." Tobias took the arm and rolled it around gently so his wrist was facing upward. One of the very thin vertical scars from the scissors was peeking out from the gauze. "I don't want you to do this anymore, Dad." He took his thumb and tenderly smoothed it over the almost-healed line, and it disappeared to only leave a pale wrist.

Tobias's pale blue eyes met Cas's dark blue. The archangel's young face looked troubled. "Promise me? You won't do this anymore?"

Cas flicked his eyes away in shame. "..Yes."

Tobias held the arm outstretched and fumbled with the bandage, finally unwinding it and revealing the deep and vertical reddish-purple line of crusty scrabs and tender skin. A small, concerned frowned pulled onto his face. He said nothing as he rand his hand along his forearm and the ugly scar disappeared.

Cas began to cry. He didn't quite know when it started, but as he looked at the pale forearm that used to have that big, ugly healing line...tears streamed down his cheeks, and once again Tobias pulled him into a hug.

"I don't deserve you." Cas sobbed. "I don't deserve any of you after everything I've done. I was not there for my own son's birth."

"Of course you deserve us." Tobias's voice was very gentle as he tucked his much shorter father tightly into his chest. "You're the best dad ever."

There was a long silence as Cas couldn't speak through the sobs for a little while.

"You're s-so beautiful." He managed to choke out after a few minutes.

"Oh, stop that." Tobias laughed as he felt the moisture wicking through his clothes and he rubbed Cas's back, grinning. "You're embarrassing me."


	18. Chapter 18

_Brrrrrrring_!

Dean groaned extra loudly and fumbled for his phone at his side desk by his bed, hitting nothing the first few times before snatching up his phone. He took naps literally whenever he could, now that the angel babies were restless, crawling all over the place, not to mention teleporting short distances and moving their toys all over the house with telekinesis.

Just the other day Cas had to get up on a ladder and yank a rattle from where it was wedged in the ceiling fan. Dean also would often wake up to find a baby had teleported themselves onto his bed and they'd be sleeping soundly and cuddled up to him, and he'd have to get up from his comfy bed in the early hours in the morning to go and put them back in their crib. Dean lost sleep just worrying about rolling over onto an unexpected visitor.

"Hullo?" Dean mumbled groggily, pressing the phone to his ear and running a hand down his face with his other palm to try and wake up a little.

"Hi, Dean. Before you say I'm creepy, I know, and I apologize in advance." Chuck's lively voice came through the phone's speakers. "I saw that two of his sons are back in time. I was just calling to tell you that they must have limited contact with the both of you. As limited as possible. I mean, I'm sure what's been done is fine, but... I just got a weird feeling about it, that's all. I don't know, just being safe here."

Dean ran his hand down his face again and blinked to try and get a little more aware. "Future babies, minimal contact. Kay. I think they were planning on leaving soon anyway, once Leo's wings start feeling a little better." Dean explained, swinging his legs off the bed. He heard one of the babies wailing from the other room, he figured his nap was over anyway.

"Oh, um..Dean...one more thing." Chuck added as Dean made his way out the doorway of his bedroom. "I think...no, I am..I'm ready for you to tell Cas who I am. I think it's sunk in enough for me to own up to it with him."

Dean got very excited, and felt a little less groggy already. "So it's sinking in?"

Chuck's voice was a little more weary as he answered this time. "A little. I feel different. I can't really explain it...bigger, I guess. And my angels are acting very different towards me. Everything is fine, but I am having these..God, these weird blackouts.." Chuck shook his head a little, gingerly touching his forehead. "I'm fine, though. I have plenty of people here to take care of me."

Dean grinned. "As long as you're feeling okay. Hell yeah, who doesn't want to be on a first name basis with the Man himself?"

Dean knew Chuck was smiling as he replied. "I guess you're still a lot more excited about this than I am, huh?"

Dean snorted and held the cellphone in the crook of his neck between his cheek and shoulder as he went to help Cas, who was pulling the babies from their bath in the sink, the ones not getting attention and being dried off immediately were squealing for attention, splashing water everywhere. A telekinetic wave pushed almost half the bathwater over the rim to splash noisily to the floor.

"Okay, Chuck. I'll let him know, I guess. See you soon." Dean chuckled and lifted Red by the armpits, the baby's skin wet and slippery, as he pulled him from the tub and transferred him to a fluffy towel, laying him down on his back, drying his shock of red hair and his shiny limbs with a fluffy washcloth. The baby squirmed and kicked his legs impatiently, wailing and making grabby-hands as his soaking white wings twitched underneath him, kicking as Dean tried to dry his chubby club-like foot.

"Oh, stop it, you!" Dean laughed as he dried the other foot. "You better not make a fuss like this every time! Let me put your undies on at least!" The baby's kicking and squirming legs kept tangling in the cotton as Dean tried to pull on his tiny briefs. "Red! Stop being so difficult!"

"I'll let you go now, Dean. It sounds like you're busy." Chuck replied, and Dean finally pulled on the tiny underwear over the babie's hips triumphantly. "Yup. Bye, Chuck."

Dean pulled his hands off the baby and ended the call on his phone, slipping it into his pocket. Then he gulped.

He looked over to Cas, who was happily and gently washing baby Bobby's light brown hair in gentle circular motions, white suds floating down like snowflakes into the sink-turned-bathtub. He had a tiny smile on his face as the two tiny brown wings flapped and splashed water around noisily. Dean didn't know how Cas was going to take the news.

Dean wasn't used to being blunt when secrets came out. So, he gulped and forced out the phrase when they finally pulled back up to Chuck's house.

"Cas, there's, uh, been something we've been meaning to tell you." Dean said as the three of them walked back up those familiar steps to Chuck's porch.

Cas looked over, confused, he was holding olive-skinned Io in his baby carrier as she curled a tiny hand around his finger. "Yes?" He asked, pausing in front of the door.

Dean sighed. "There's no easy way to say this, Cas, but...uh, we found out that Chuck is God. He just didn't know it."

Cas looked speechless for a second. "He...he.." The ex-angel stammered. " _How_?"

"All the angels here know somehow. Cacifer called us and confirmed it." Dean didn't like the look of growing anger on Castiel's face. "I'm sorry. Chuck was scared, well, mortified's more like it, but he finally gave us the okay to tell you."

" _You didn't trust me enough to tell me who my own father is_?" Cas looked very upset now. "And you were certain?"

Dean and Sam exchanged a glance. Cas handed the baby off to a nearby angel and stormed through the house in search of Chuck.

The brothers waited on the porch, watching as Cas talked to Chuck sitting at that wrought iron table in the middle of his backyard-turned-garden.

They simply watched the body language as Chuck curved his back, his elbows resting on the table, his palms gripping his hairs as Cas had a tight grip on his shoulder with one hand, remaining standing. Cas was saying something, his shoulders straight and angry. Chuck crumpled to the table, his head in his folded arms. His scrawny back shook with a sob. The brothers couldn't watch anymore.

"Why didn't you tell me?" Cas's voice had raised to just under a yell. His hand shot out and he gripped and shook his shoulders. " _Why_ , father?!"

Chuck didn't respond at first. Finally, he choked out the next word. "Cas," His word was choppy and forced. He unfolded his arms and met the ex-angel's eyes with his own weary blue eyes. "I am not your father. Not yet. I don't know all the answers to the questions you wanted to ask me. Sit down, Cas, please."

Chuck half-heartedly indicated to the garden chair opposite of him, but the angel stubbornly remained standing. A second of silence passed. A breeze blew through the garden, the scent of the roses and lilies and hydrangeas filled their noses. Cas's hands were balled into fists as he stood rigid. Chuck took a deep breath of the perfumed air. And something changed in him.

A bee buzzed by Chuck's ear. The man smiled softly and looked at Cas.

"I don't know why you love bees so much, Castiel." He said serenely. "I know I created them to work. To pollenate and to create honey and to feed their hives. They follow orders from other bees, invisible scents in the air and maps made as bees dance. And they are perfect architects of hexagons. Such a strange shape to find in nature, isn't it? And they work until the day they die. So much work into something that does not seem very important to us." His voice was different, calming, poetic, different from the fast-paced clip he usually used, full of 'uh's and 'um's.

Chuck lifted a finger lazily, his pale eyes following as the bee flew and touched down right on the very tip. "And a stinger, to fight and defend their colony. But even that, it seems trivial to us, doesn't it? Their colony, their reason for living?" Chuck continued to explain.

"What is one tiny little bee to you and me, Castiel? Would it matter to the hive if he disappeared? Would it matter in my life? Probably not. And their life spans are nothing anyway. What if I were to squish this bee right now, Castiel?" His thumb came ever closer to his pointer finger where the bee just sat, unaware. Cas's stony features began to soften only slightly.

"Don't," Cas said quietly.

Chuck brought his fingers together, gently pinching the bee within his fingers. Its wings flapped and it gave one tiny buzz.

" _Please_." Cas spoke up again, more panicked this time. "Please. Let him go."

Chuck lifted an eyebrow at Cas. He opened his fingers, and the bee buzzed away as happily as if nothing had ever happened. " _Him_ , Cas? This insect is not Dean." Chuck said gently.

The ex-angel looked away, locking his jaw.

"You love humans, it is very plain to me. It all started when you pulled a human who become very special to you from hell. Don't think of this as a flaw, Castiel, because it's exactly what I admire most about you." Chuck's voice flowed on softly. "Bees are much like humans. Humans are shut off in their own little hourglasses of life and can be gone to you and me in the blink of an eye, dedicating their lives to things that seem so trivial to us. But it would not be right for me to squish and kill that little bee."

Cas was crying. He wiped the tear with the back of his hand so it smeared on his cheek.

"Why are you telling me this?" Cas whispered huskily.

Chuck met his eyes. " _You_ , Castiel. You're exactly the kind of angel I need. My children are all fallen. But when we begin to work and put them back in the sky, Castiel, they will be modeled after you. You were never flawed, or different, you-"

The man stopped mid-word. He suddenly seemed a little woozy as he reached up and touched his head, his eyelids fluttering. "Oh. _Ow_. Oh.. my head." His very plebeian way of speaking returned once more.

"Chuck?" Cas reached out and helped steady him by the shoulder, as it looked like he were about to fall over.

Chuck forced his eyes open and squinted into Cas's face. "Jeez. I must be kinda dehydrated or something. I can't do this right now, Cas, I'm sorry. I..I'll talk with you later. I'm so sorry." Chuck pushed himself to stand up and still swayed a little. "I know I must come as a large disappointment. Hopefully Sam and Dean can help me change that, maybe when I find my grace.."

Cas wrapped his arm around Chuck's and helped to steady him as they began to walk back to the house from the garden. The ex-angel's mind was reeling. What if in  _knowing_  who he was, that was enough to have Chuck slowly but surely begin to return to his old self? With his old memories?

Had Cas been given the egg, seemingly on complete coincidence, on  _purpose_ , after all?

"Thank you, Cas. I feel a little better now." Chuck said as they began to walk up the stairs leading to the house. "Take care of those little angels for me, alright?"


	19. Chapter 19

In most ways, they were easier to take care of than regular kids. They didn't cry much, only when things were really wrong. They didn't need diapers or food, which was nice. In some ways, it was harder.

Sam guessed that they aged around three or four times faster than regular kids, but that was when he looked at them as babies. At a month they were doing things three month olds did. At two months, they were acting like six month olds. Then things changed again. Aging catalyzed even more, and at seven months old they were already acting like four year olds. With them growing up so quickly, soon they were able to make their own energy, and they didn't have to go Chuck's house so often.

It seemed to be perfect timing- when they arrived one day, the house was completely abandoned, collapsing tents still out in the front, flapping in the wind, the front door held ajar, and everyone was just gone. No angels, no Chuck. Sam even put out a missing person's report, but with no luck.

They could only hope that he was back in heaven, throwing Metatron into some kind of time-out corner.

They weren't able to make that their main concern, because surprisingly enough, quadruplets were a huge handful. There were all sorts of things that the humans had to consider when taking care of infants of powerful creatures.

One day Io had been playing down in the living room with her toys, and she'd seen a huge black spider rushing toward her, and she got so scared that she'd accidently telepathically burst all three of the floor-to-ceiling windows.

Dean had to scour the house to find her, as the three others cleaned up the shards of glass that had cascaded into the room.

He finally found her, tucked up in one of the rafters, even though they told all the kids there was a strict "no flying in the house" policy.

"Io? Sweetheart, it's okay." Dean outstretched his arms, willing her to jump/flutter down into them. She had hidden herself well, and as her tiny face peered out at him her cheeks were stained with tears. She sniffled and dragged her hand across her nose.

"I broke everything." She sniffled. "They were such beautiful windows, daddy, and I broke them."

"It's only glass, Io." Dean said, coming closer and stretching out his arms. "We're just going to buy new ones. Please come down, baby girl. We're not mad. I promise."

She finally fluttered down on her silvery wings and buried her face into Dean's shoulder, hiccuping and crying a little more. "I'm a bad daughter." She sniffled.

"You're the best daughter in the whole world." Dean told her, and she hiccuped again.

"Have I told you that you're my favorite daughter?" Dean laughed, and Io finally giggled through her tears. "I'm your only daughter, silly."

There were a few times when Dean thought they might rip a hole in the space/time continuum. Cas explained that the kids would have 'hiccups' in learning, and would have a lot of accidents.

It really freaked Dean out that one day he noticed  _two_  little Leos running around the house. Cas told him that one of them was older and from the future and had a little hiccup with time travel.

"That's not a hiccup, Cas! The kid friggin' time traveled!" Dean insisted, holding the squirming right-time Leo in his lap, hoping to not have the two interact too much.

"Let go, papa! I want to go play!" Leo whined. "He said he was going to tell me secrets about the future!"

"Oh, hell no. Cas, this is too creepy." Dean said, hugging current Leo even tighter on his lap. The future twin was only there for a day.

And, two weeks later, when Leo disappeared, they knew exactly where he went. And that there were no 'secrets from the future' after all, that he'd been kidding around. Once again, he was able to come back within a day.

And now that they were older, it was a daily zoo in the bunker.

"Hey! No running in the house!" Kevin was calling after them as Red, Io and Leo were tearing through the house, just having come in from outside. Sam groaned when he saw that mud was splattering everywhere and brown footprints were all over the house.

"I told them not to bring mud in the house  _yesterday_!" Sam ran a hand down his face.

" _Bobby_!" Red was bellowing as Leo and Io were running after the little rowdy redhead.

Sam's eyes widened and he immediately got up from his chair and chased after the three of them. " _Red_! Get back here!"

Cas gently passed his hand over Bobby's light brown hair. They were sitting in Cas's room with the door shut, trying to create a calm atmosphere for Bobby when he was growing out his second set of wings.

He had a hard grip on Cas's clothes, twisting the cotton as he let out another little strangled whimper and pushed closer to Cas's side.

Cas stroked his brown hair again. "Shhh. It's okay, Tobias. Almost over." He said soothingly. "I'm here. I'm not going to leave you."

Bobby whimpered out and tears streaked down his face. "Why is this happening to me?" He whined, his tiny shoulders shaking. "Daddy, it hurts!"

"I know. It's going to be over soon, I promise." Cas had to restrain himself from petting his wings like he was so used to, because the third and forth wings were around halfway out of his back, downy and wet and seemingly shapeless brown bulges.

Cas heard Samandriel's voice calling out from the hallway. " _Bobby_! Bobby we have a surprise for you!"

Bobby perked up a little, his birthwings fluttering slightly. "Red?"

Good thing one of the other bunkermen had probably grabbed the kid. "Shh. Don't worry about them, okay?"

Bobby's cheeks shone with a sheen of sweat, and he nodded. "Kay," He said quietly. His breath started coming faster in his throat, and his fists clenched hard against the fabric. Cas watched as the rest of the lower tier of wings pushed from his body, collapsing onto his tiny pale back, wet and dark with the moisture, looking like they had when they were born and not sleek like his topmost layer.

He noticed Bobby was not saying anything. "Tobias? Bobby, are you okay?"

He hugged him closer and the kid shuddered in a breath. "Daddy? Is it over?"

Cas smiled a little. "It's over, baby." He passed his hand over his hair again. Bobby's blue eyes were bright as he kissed Cas on the cheek. "Can I go play wif brothers n' sister now?"

"Not yet. We have to wait for them to dry, okay? We don't want your siblings pulling at them or hurting them." Cas explained, and Bobby pouted.

"They wouldn't do that, dada." He frowned.

" _Caaasssss_!" They heard Sam yell from the other room.

"Stay here until I say you can go play, okay Tobias?"

Cas struggled to bathe the three babies in the tub after they'd gotten mud over everything, and everyone else mopped up the floors.

"Daddy?" Leoniel asked as Cas struggled to keep the squirming Red in check, who was splashing everywhere and making little whines of protest as Cas scrubbed his wings free of the caked-on mud.

"Just a second," Cas replied, running a cup of water over the soaking white feathers.

"I was jus' playing dress up!" Red whined, flapping his wings in vein and splashing water everywhere with his arms. "I made 'em look like Bobby's 'n now your ruining it!"

"Shh, Samandriel. It's because they're dirty." He replied patiently, and the redhead crossed his arms but let Cas gently pull the dried chunks of mud from his feathers.

Dean chuckled as he massaged the shampoo into Io's black hair, she patiently had her eyes closed and was gripping the edge of the tub, not making a sound. "I thought angel babies would be, you know, angelic." He smiled and pulled her hair into a sudsy mohawk. "This little piggy behaves pretty well." Dean did have a soft spot for the little girl. Io giggled and clung to Cas's side, where she squeezed her eyes shut and poked his shoulder. He smiled and dumped a cup of water over her head.

"Daddy?" Leoniel asked again, a little frown on his freckled face. He felt forgotten a lot, the little sweet boy swallowed from the chaos.

"Sorry, baby. What did you want to ask?" Cas asked, finally pulling the kicking Red from the bathwater and handing him to Dean, who restrained him by pulling him into a towel.

"I want brown wings like Bobby!" Red whined, and Dean just chuckled as he began to rub his shoulders dry. " _Daddy_!" At this point, the babies called everybody daddy.

"Sorry, little monster. You got white ones, and remember the saying?" Dean prompted, lifting an eyebrow.

"You git what you git and you don't throw a fit." Red mumbled, letting Dean go over his bright, wet locks with the towel. He was cute when he was pouty.

"That's right. That's something old Bobby told me a long time ago." Dean scooped him up and the angel squealed. "Dean! It's scary up here!" He giggled, kicking his legs and punching his arms into Dean's back. "Put me down!"

"Daddy!" Leo insisted this time, his blue eyes sad and his light eyebrows tipped over his big, innocent eyes. "I had a question!"

"Go ahead," Cas answered, pouring another cup of water over Io's little dark head of hair.

"What are  _these_  from, dada?" Leo ran a tiny finger over Cas's pink and puckered wing-scars, and Cas visibly shivered at the touch.

Dean spoke up for him, he'd turned around after he sent Red pattering down the halls wrapped tight in his towel.

"It was from an accident, Leo. Cas was trying to do a good thing, and someone hurt him for it." Dean answered, and a concerned frown immediately formed on the youngest fledgling's face. His deep black wings clumsily flapped in surprise and splashed some water around the tub.

"A bad guy did this to dad?" Leo asked quietly. "A bad guy hurt him?" Cas was still very much silent.

"Yeah, Lee. A really bad guy." Dean replied. He locked his jaw, his hands twitching into fists for a second. "His name was Metatron. Remember that name."

Leo looked frightened, splashing and clinging to Cas's wet side, the baby's blue eyes flown wide. Cas frowned and gently held his back, his hand placed over his dark folded-up wings. "There's no need to scare them, Dean." Cas warned, clearly upset.

Io had her arms over her head, silently asking for Dean to pick her up from the tub. Dean quickly scooped her out and wrapped a towel around her shoulders, taking out a little comb and starting to work through the tangles in her dark hair, which was longer than any of the boys.

"I'm not trying to scare them." Dean was defensive. "I'm just letting them know a little bit of the truth."

"Well, they're too young for the truth." Cas shot back, and Leo clung even tighter. "Cas?" He whimpered. Cas always felt a little closer to the little blackwing than any of his other children, but he wasn't sure why. Maybe it was because the angel was the youngest as well.

"Go dress the others." Cas said moodily, taking a washcloth and gently scrubbing the mud from Leo's arms. Dean turned around without another word and went to go find Io and Red, wherever they'd gone.

"Sammy,  _pleeaaasseee_?" Io was asking in her tiny high-pitched voice, Dean found her and her brother by the foot of Sam's bed, flapping their wet wings to try and hop up on the bed where Sam held Bobby. Red's pale little butt was just out there for everyone to see, he'd abandoned his towel at the foot of the bed.

Dean chuckled. "C'mon, guys. Let's get you dressed first, and then you can bug your brother."

He wrapped Red up once again and threw him over his shoulder, Io clinging to the bottom of his flannel as he went to take them to get dressed. "How's he holding up?" Dean asked Sam, who was gently holding the exhausted baby archangel in his lap and pressing the icepack to his lower back.

"He's okay. He's just tired now that it's all over." Sam got that puppy-dog-sympathetic look on his face and gently stroked the boy's light brown hair. Bobby made a little whimpering noise and buried his face into Sam's shirt.

Dean left to get the babies dressed, and Sam gently pushed the child's damp hair from his forehead again.

"Tobias?" He said gently. "What's wrong?"

The angel's shoulders shook with a small sob. "I dun want 'em to see." He clutched at Sam's shirt and began to cry, little wet spots of moisture soaking through the fabric.

Sam's heart wrenched in his chest. "Hey, baby, don't be embarrassed." He put a gently hand on the stacks of four wings, and Bobby cried even harder.

"But..Io 'n Red 'n Leo don't have four whole wings and I'm just a weirdo!" He cried out, his four wings drooping with despondency on his back.

"You're not a weirdo." Sam said firmly, hugging him tightly this time. "You're different from your brothers and sisters. You're going to be much stronger than them."

Bobby sniffled. "But I don't wanna be  _different_!"

Sam was saved from having to respond as Dean came back into the room with Io and Red. Io was wearing her favorite pair of yellow cloth overalls, and Red was wearing that ridiculous "I wuv hugs" shirt that Dean bought in disbelief when he saw that the stores were  _still_  selling it. ('Talk about a friggin' lazy graphics designer.' he'd muttered, taking four of them and putting them in the cart.)

"Bobby!" Red burst out, squirming in Dean's arms and reaching for his brother. Dean chuckled and put Red down on the bed, who scrambled immediately to get to him.

Sam put up a warning hand. "Red. Be very,  _very_  gentle with your brother, okay?"

"Kay," Red nodded furiously and came closer. Bobby pressed his newly budded wings to the pillow and frowned at Red.

"Are you okay?" Red asked, concerned as he pouted out his lower lip.

"Yeah." Bobby answered, frowning too and pressing harder onto the pillow so no one would have to see his new wings.

"Can I hug you?" Red asked, and Bobby hesitated but nodded a little.

Sam was smiling. Sometimes they were so sweet to each other. "Gentle, Red."

Red very gently hugged Bobby and pulled away. "I tried to make a surprise for you 'cuz I made my wings brown like yours but Daddy made me clean 'em off so they're not brown anymore."'

Bobby sniffled. " 's okay." He rubbed his nose.

"Did it hurt?" Io asked timidly, crawling up next to Red, her dark brown eyes shining as she looked up to the archangel.

"Yeah." Bobby answered again, sniffling a little as new tears began forming in his light blue eyes.

Sam was about to call it off, seeing that the boy was clearly upset, but bit back his words as Bobby spoke up again.

"Do you wanna see?" He asked uncertainly, wringing his hands.

The two were quiet as they nodded, and Bobby hesitated before turning around, spreading out all four of his tiny eagle-brown wings before folding them clumsily to rest against his back.

" _Wow_!" Red said in amazement.

"They're  _really_  pretty, Bobby!" Io said cheerfully, bobbing up and down on the bed.

The little archangel finally smiled a little, turning around to face them and shuffling his wings, rubbing them against each other. "Really..?"

" _Duh!_ " Red practically yelled, and Sam lifted an eyebrow. "Hey. What did I say about that word?"

"Not to say it." Red grinned up at Sam and Sam could practically  _taste_  the rebellious teenage years.

"Okay, guys." Dean began to round up the two of them, who let out little 'aww's of protest. "Time to let your brother rest."

"But he needs more hugs!" Red pouted, and Dean snorted at how it related to his shirt.

"Sammy can take care of that. C'mon, we need to go to the grocery store." Dean chuckled.

* * *

And while the young angels ran at Dean and Kevin's heels and tugged at the hems of their shirts, grabbing cookies and candy from the shelves and giggling and pattering around, the scene in heaven wasn't quite so peaceful.

Hundreds upon thousands of the dead surged against the barricade in heaven, screaming ripping through the air, the walls crumbling, angels rushing back into their home as well as some of the dead.

The angels that Metatron had kept as his disciples clashed, and the air was filled with the rough, heavy noise of ceaseless shouting, and the angels who had been fallen and the ones loyal to Metatron clashed.

"Better keep up, bro!" A lanky, red-headed young man shouted behind him with a devilish grin, bright locks falling into his face. He twirled his blade and winked at the tall, mousy-haired man behind him with the six stacked brown wings.

Tobias slashed at an attacker powerfully, throwing his body weight behind it, gritting his teeth and smearing the flecks of silver off of his cheeks as he kicked the body off his blade. "What? I couldn't hear you over the sound of me being awesome."

Next to him Iofiel cut down a angel twice her size and shot her two older brothers a irritated glance, puffing a bit of dark brown hair that had escaped her ponytail out of her face. "Boys! Stop fucking around!" She barked out, jabbing another in the stomach and pushing him out of the way with a loud grunt.

Red and Tobias pulled each other up to their feet, then roughly shoved each other to get working, their way of telling each other to be careful. Their wings knocked together as they pushed back into the chaos.

And as the four baby angels snuggled up in a pile around the exhausted and slumbering Cas as Dean smiled and shut the bedroom door, the fighting had finally reached the core of heaven.

Metatron struggled to sit up once again, his face bloodied and swelling already. Before he could fully regain his balance, another rough punch had him falling back to the floor.

"Please. I must talk to Father. Please, brother." He begged.

"You are not my brother." Leo snarled, punching his face again so hard his cheek flopped to the concrete and a spittle of blood colored the ground. "And I sure as hell haven't forgotten what you had done to my father."

"Leoniel. That's quite enough." Chuck spoke up softly, suddenly appearing in the room and stepping forward on light feet. "Thank you. You are dismissed."

Leo finally peeked uncertainly out of the door, where his siblings would be waiting for him. He didn't know what they'd think about what he'd done to the old angel, if they'd disapprove, if they'd think he'd gotten carried away.

Red yanked the door all the way open and grabbed him by the shoulder, pulling him roughly into a gigantic bear hug. "I knew you had it in ya, you stupid baby!" He cheered, roughing up his light blonde hair. Io slugged him hard on the shoulder and Tobais laughed and patted the spot she'd punched gently and apologetically.

Back on Earth, Dean made sure everyone was asleep before he pulled a book from the shelf, Cas's long-abandoned scrapbook. And secretly, he slipped in a few more photos and wrote a few more descriptions, smiling to himself as he slipped in a photo of Tobias with his new set of wings and a picture he'd taken of baby Leo sleeping with two other time-twins in a pile by the fireplace. He coughed into his hand to try and stop his goofy smiling, even though no one was watching, and hid the book away again.


	20. Chapter 20

"Red! Stop spilling the flour on the floor!" Dean scolded as yet another heavy cloud of white splattered in a powdery explosion to the floor.

"I'm not try'na, Io keeps shoving me!" The little angel pouted.

"Am not!" The little girl stuck her tongue out. She'd managed to keep all her baking ingredients in her bowl. "No way!"

"Yeah way!" Red frowned. " _Daddy_!"

Dean felt like he was saved by the bell as the doorbell chimed. Dean brushed of himself and went to go answer it.

"Hey, behave, you two!" He scolded lightly before leaving the room.

"Chuck?" Dean swung open the front door of the bunker. Behind him, two winged kids pattered across the hall, shrieking and laughing. Dean, embarrassingly enough, was wearing an apron.

"Good morning, Dean." Chuck greeted happily, his blue eyes bright and well-rested for once. Dean couldn't remember him looking so chipper. His face suddenly fell as he remembered. His abandoned house, the tents flapping in the wind. The blackouts he'd complained about.

"Oh my God..you're God!" Dean deducted, a wide smile splitting his face. Chuck shifted his feet in embarrassment, a shy smile on his face.

"You really are, aren't you, holy sh..SAM!" He poked his head back in the house and gripped onto the doorframe as he leaned back into the house. "SAM! GOD'S STANDING ON OUR DOORSTEP!"

"Dean, you are...I swear..." Chuck rubbed his temples, but his face broke into a smile. He opened his eyes again, nodding at Sam's flustered face peering out from behind the door.

"H-how are you feeling?" Sam stuttered.

"The transition was...a little less than smooth, I'll give you that." Chuck laughed nervously, running a hand nervously through his unruly hair. "I'm still a little, ah, rough around the edges, but at least I have one conscious now." Chuck beamed at them, proud of himself.

"Alright, Chuck!" Dean clapped him on the shoulder. "Way to go! Keep working on that, buddy. God on a first-name basis...hell yeah."

Sam was wanting to get much more technical than Dean immediately. He looked up at him like he was a specimen. "Do you remember anything? From when you were having blackouts?"

Chuck pursed his lips. "Ah...small amounts. I'm hoping that it will all come back to me, eventually." He looked past the brothers and smiled, coming up to the baby archangel who was napping sweetly on the floor, a tiny toy car limply held in one of his hands.

"Oh, my baby. They get so exhausted for a few weeks after their second set of wings come in." Chuck leaned down and very gently tucked the toddler to his chest, barely disturbing him like he'd done it a thousand times before (which he probably had.) He softly stroked the two pairs of eagle brown wings, which fluttered slightly in his sleep. "I remember when this happened to little Gabriel. He threw such a tantrum." He had a faraway look on his face, his eyes growing weary, absent-mindedly stroking his wings again.

"Oh, I..sorry." Chuck looked up, snapping out of it. He looked embarrassed to be handling their kid like that without permission. "Do you mind?"

The brothers chuckled. "Not at all."

Chuck kissed the little boy on the hair and sighed. "Oh...my little Gabriel...my darling little sweet-toothed troublemaker..." He pressed his cheek to Tobias's light brown hair and he tried to keep himself from crying. "I was gone for too long...I let such bad things happen to my sweet angels...my dearest children..." He hiccupped and a tear slid down his cheek. "I won't ever let that happen again. A few of my children are gone forever, but things are going to change."

Chuck carried the little boy and softly lay him onto his bed. The kid barely even stirred as he tucked him under the covers. Chuck lightly pulled on a wing that had flopped in an awkward position, readjusting it to be more comfortable. He sighed, trying to not think about all his children he had lost when he was gone. "They'll learn to conceal them very soon. It's almost a shame. They're so very pretty, aren't they?" Chuck asked distantly, softness in his voice. The brothers were convinced.

"Speaking of wings.." Chuck straightened up and tugged on a black cord around his neck, revealing a small vial full of glowing blue-white light. "I have something very special for my dearest son Castiel."

Dean's eyes widened and he exchanged glances with Sam. His grace, whatever Metatron stole- he had gotten it back.

Dean didn't get to see the ordeal. It could have 'burned his eyes from his sockets' or whatever. Meanwhile, he went to get the kid's things in the oven and get them freshened up before bed. Still, even as he gave the shrieking, splashing kids baths and cooked their floury almost-cookie concoctions, he couldn't keep his mind from wandering about Cas. He carried a pit in his stomach. What was going to happen now?

He wasn't going to be a homeless, broken and depressed human with a heavy burden on him anymore, he didn't need to rely on Dean anymore. He could more than easily handle the little rugrats himself, and haul them all away and back to heaven to raise them there in a moment's notice. He would be able to fly, heal, fight and leave Dean without even a trace. Dean felt anxiety and worry envelop him.

Who was he kidding? He was Dean frigging Winchester. And that meant that all good things would always, goddamn  _always_ , come to an end.

It didn't mean he was anywhere used to it yet.

...

He finally saw Cas as he sat in the living room, jotting a few notes down in his dad's journal. He immediately stood up and made his way toward him, cold sadness and paranoia spiking through his chest like a dark icicle.

"So, you got the wings strapped on again, huh?" Dean asked quietly, a smile on his face, yet his eyes were sad. Cas looked up at him, slightly confused at that sadness behind his eyes, and nodded very slightly.

Dean huffed out some air and made a very pitiful excuse for a laugh. "That's..yeah, Cas, that's great. I'm happy for you. Awesome."

Cas tipped his head to the side. "Your heartbeat is very fast, Dean. And I'm sensing anxiety. What's wrong?"

Dean chuckled. "Okay, now you're just showing off with that mojo of yours."

Cas grew defensive. "I'm not-"

Cas did not expect to be pulled into a giant hug, his cheek flattened to the pungent flannel on Dean's chest. Dean's big, square palms were pressed hard onto his back in a desperate hug. "Cas, just hear me out, okay? I..I know heaven is not a bad place anymore, and that it would be safe for the kids but..." Dean struggled with what to say next.

"You don't want me to leave." Cas spoke up gently.

"Yeah." Dean replied huskily, squeezing the angel a little tighter. "I don't want all this to all go away. I know cherubs and clouds and sunbeams or whatever might be nicer than this ol' crappy bunker but...I'm finally happy. I have a family now. My little brothers, whether they be blood like Sammy or brought in like Kevin, and the babies, and..and you." He hesitated, his cheeks burning hot.

"Where in the classification would you put me?" Cas asked innocently, looking up into Dean's face. "A friend?"

"Friend, that's not gonna cut it." Dean took a deep breath. "You're the one who pulled me from  _hell_ , Cas. We've got...got, a..." Cas sensed his heartbeat speed even more.

"Profound bond." Castiel finished for him, still confused. He didn't understand what Dean was trying to say, or why he was so nervous.

"Yeah. That." Dean coughed, and suddenly realized he still was holding the angel quite tightly in his arms. "I just want you to stay, Cas. I know things could be different now you're an angel again but..."

"I will stay." Cas replied. His own arms pressed reassuringly to the hunter's broad back. "I could never leave this place. This family."

Dean sighed, his chest deflating from under Cas's cheek. "Okay. Hfff. Good." Dean sighed in relief, and it was only then that the angel realized how much this had really been worrying Dean. Then, Cas's eyes flew wide as suddenly warm lips were pressed against his. 

Cas froze for a second, and Dean pulled away. They both met each other's surprised eyes. 

"D-Did you just kiss me?" Cas asked, confused, his eyebrows pulling together as he looked up at Dean and brought two fingers to his lips. 

"Fuck. Sorry. Sorry, I just felt like...okay. Just-uh-forget that ever happened." Dean scrambled to push away from the angel, his cheeks burning red. "That was totally uncalled for. I was just happy you're staying, you know, I, uh..." He trailed off, wishing he could just disappear.

"I...thought it was nice." Cas filled in the silence for him, giving him a confused stare.

There was another small pause. " _Really_?" Dean asked, still feeling humiliated.

"Yes." The angel replied. He took Dean's arms- God, they were  _shaking_!- and held him so they were barely at a hug yet. He lightly kissed his cheek, which was pink and warm from the dilated blood vessels. "I will still have to learn all of this." He added as an afterthought.

"That's fine with me." Dean leaned down and pressed his nose to Cas's. "That will be the fun part."

Cas was awestruck by the sudden images that began to flood his mind. He'd almost forgotten what it was like to mind read, and right now Dean's thoughts were being very, very  _loud_.

"I can read minds again, you know." Cas spoke up, just in case Dean didn't want him to see and he could try his best to look away.

"Yeah, I know." Dean chuckled. And Cas looked.

They were back on the roof of the bunker the night Dean had found him and brought him back. Cas saw his own silhouette, a little hunched back and messy hair against the backdrop and orange-yellow streetlamps strung up like pearl necklaces, and the smaller and cleaner white-light pinpricks from up in the vast, dark sky.  _He really does look fallen. Something in the way he carries himself. I hope his back isn't still hurting._ Cas heard Dean's gruff inner voice through the memory. He saw Dean's arms in front of him as he climbed up the roof.

Dean saw the egg. He was suddenly struck with a silly comparison to Humpty-Dumpty.  _He had a great Fall...and all the king's horses and all the king's men couldn't put him back together again._  Cas was seized with Dean's cold fear.  _What if I can't fix him? What if I can't fix him? What if I can't..._

Dean sighed an held Cas closer. Cas knew he was not a very verbal person when it came to this situations (as he had just shown), so this was the only way he knew how to confess.

 _Castiel Winchester, open this door right now!_ Dean had been screaming, his foot coming up and planting in the middle of his bathroom door, his thigh muscles screaming as he kicked as hard as he could. His heart skipped a beat when he saw Cas slicing up his pale forearm, red blood had dripped to the floor and his face, God, his face was so damn pale and white as a sheet.  _Dean_ , Cas saw himself whisper before his eyes rolled back in his head and he passed out onto the tiled floor.

 _No!_ Dean had screamed at the top of his lungs, rushing forward and planting his palm over the bleeding gash, it was sticky with warm blood and the deep split sickened him.  _God, Cas..._ He frantically had checked for his pulse. It was faint, but beating steadily under his fingertips. He wanted to shake him, and berate him for being so goddamn stupid. _Can't you see people love you, goddammit?_ I _love you, you bastard!_

Harsh realization.

_...I love you._

_Castiel Winchester, don't you fucking die on me._

It was Dean who sewed up his forearm and the laceration above ribs with great care, he felt like he was fixing up some kind of broken doll. He took Kevin's blood and slid the needle into Cas's pale arm and then slid his fingers through his messy black hair, even though he wouldn't be able to feel it. He imagined Cas's blue eyes folding open right then, and he'd look to Dean with shock and maybe even a little admiration and then Dean would lean down and kiss him like he was the knight in shining armor who had saved the day...but, of course, his eyes didn't open on his relaxed face. Cas was out, he wasn't going to wake up for a while.  _Stop being such a stupid idiot, Winchester._  Dean scolded himself, embarassed at his childish thought.  _Your life isn't a fucking fairy tale. You'll be lucky if you even get a thank you._

"I'm sorry, Dean." Cas didn't realize. "I'm sorry I put you through so much."

"Don't be." Dean grunted. "Only doing my job."

"I didn't think your job was to fall in love with me." Cas said, a tiny smile on his face as he melted into Dean's chest, his eyelashes fluttering as he closed his eyes. A warmth spread in his chest. It felt nice to know  _someone_  loved him.

Dean was speechless, and he let out a few strangled sounds that were barely words. Frusterated at himself for his inability to say anything, he rushed forward and planted a soft kiss on Cas's lips, taking the sides his face in his palms.

The two pulled apart shortly after. Dean looked embarassed, his cheeks flushed again. Cas looked equally humiliated.

"I...told you I will have to learn all of this." He tried to say in his defense. He was embarrassed that when he had those lips on his, he had absolutely no idea what to do next.

"Sorry." Dean ran his hand through his hair nervously. "It's..it's okay. We, uh, we should go tuck in the kids now."

"Agreed." Cas's own cheeks felt a little hot. Being a bad kisser had never been a concern of his before. Now, like a middle schooler, getting better seemed to slip to the top of his list. Maybe he could ask Sam. Yes, he could do that. Sam wouldn't mind, would he?

Dean slipped his fingers into Cas's as they walked down the hallway. Cas felt a warmth spread quickly in his chest again. This was nice. You can't be bad at hand-holding, right? Dean gave him a reassuring squeeze before he let go, stepping into the kid's room. Cas knew things were never going to go back to the way they were before. For one, maybe he'd get to share the bed more often with Dean instead of only on occasion. That thought spread warmth like alcohol in his stomach again. 

Cas waited in the doorway, watching as Dean smiled and talked quietly to the baby angels, pulling the covers up over their shoulders and playfully squeezing their foot-lumps under the blankets, ruffling one boy's hair and kissing another's forehead. He was so good with his little ones, wasn't he? Cas felt such an all-encompassing feeling of  _home_  that he almost felt a little dizzy, and he steadied himself on the doorpost. It was a good kind of dizzy.

* * *

"You know I don't require sleep now that I have my "mojo" back." Cas protested weakly, complete with air quotes. Dean grinned at him and patted the empty side of his bed once again. "Humor me."

Cas came uncertainly up to the bed and trailed his fingers along the quilt, before uncertainly climbing on and laying down, his fingers laced together and resting lightly on his stomach. "I don't know what to do. It's never been, you know, _romantic_ before-"

Dean chuckled happily. "Oh, relax." He smiled, propping his head up on his elbow. "You're doing just fine."

Cas looked uncertainly at him, his eyebrows drawing together. He also turned to the side, his eyes concerned. His hand dragged lightly along the blanket as he reached out tentatively to the space between them, and Dean slipped his hand out to meet him in the middle and laced his fingers between the spaces.

"Is this when we kiss?" Cas asked uncertainly, his voice lowered, as if he were telling a secret.

"Only if you want to." Dean grinned, giving his hand a reassuring squeeze.

Cas looked nervous. "Maybe...just one." He whispered.

Dean pulled forward and gave him a soft kiss, extending his neck and flashing his clear-cut jawbone. Cas reached up and took the side of his face, his ear between his first two fingers as his thumb rubbed along the soft hairs in front of his ear.

"G'night." Dean whispered when they'd pulled apart. His nose was still lightly touching the angel's, and his lips had broken into an easy smile. "Love you, Cas."

The angel's heart pattered in his chest. "I love you too." He whispered back, his eyes shutting with shyness. Dean squeezed his hand again. The blankets rustled as Dean pushed his feet underneath and lifted it for Cas to slip under too.

Dean faced Cas and wore a tiny smile on his lips. "G'night." He said again. "Y'know, I'm probably never going to get tired of that." And with that, his eyes were closed, leaving Cas to count freckles. As the angel waited, he resorted to counting those slightly blonde-tipped eyelashes that would flutter slightly every now and then.

_Was he asleep?_

Cas cautiously peeked into his thoughts- he wasn't quite under yet, but he was slipping fast.

"Dean?" Cas asked uncertainly, not sure if he would be a light enough of a sleeper to hear him. He was too shy to repeat himself if he didn't.

"Hmmm." Dean grunted, his consciousness coming up closer to the surface, yet he still wasn't fully awake, Cas could tell with his re-found abilities.

"I am very glad I found you." Cas whispered. There was that odd, honey-like viscous spread of warmth in his chest again.

"Mm? Mm-hmm." Dean grunted, his lips not quite coordinating with his mind. Cas placed his hand on the side of his head again and kissed him on the forehead, between his eyebrows. Dean chuckled a little this time, but his eyes remained closed. "Cas, you sly dog." He mumbled with a sleepy laugh, pulling a little on the covers again.

It was very warm here, Cas deduced. There was something very calming about the blanket of darkness, the steady breathing of Dean next to him and the way he'd sometimes mumble in his sleep, reaching out for him to reassure himself all of this wasn't some kind of dream. Cas always met his searching palm and would curl his fingers around it, smiling happily in the dark with his sleepless eyes fixated on his Hunter as he'd hear Dean's content, sleepy sigh.

This man was his friend, his family, one of the fathers of his children,the one he saved,  _his_  savior, the one he loved after all. Thinking about his future made his head spin. It wasn't perfect, and there was hard work to be done. But he found a peace in knowing he'd have his dearest baby angels to take care of and watch grow, he would be hunting alongside his family and cleansing the world of evil one case at a time. He thought of his future with Dean, that his "G'night" would be the first of thousands.  _Maybe even more,_ Cas thought.  _If we share a heaven._ Maybe, they just might. And finally, that word didn't spread a chill down his spine.

Yes, he was going to stay.


End file.
